A New Beginning
by D.Va.God
Summary: "It is over, love. Every ending creates a new beginning." Lena and Amelie meet in the field yet again, but something ignites inside them when their eyes meet. Can the love they can't ignore persevere through tragedy and mistrust? (Tracer x Widowmaker) *This is my first OW fanfic. Please let me know your thoughts in a review or PM*
1. Chapter 1

"When I was a girl, I had a fear of spiders.. I was told that they felt no emotion, that their hearts never beat.." Widowmaker chuckled softly at the irony of her thoughts. It seemed, well, natural to fear a creature that felt nothing; who would care for something that couldn't possibly feel love, or happiness, or compassion? Or hate, despair, and apathy? What sentient, feeling being would give even an ounce of themselves to a creature as low as that?

It amused her that she had so much in common with a creature she used to fear more than almost anything in the world. It may be natural to fear such a thing, but Widowmaker was anything but natural these days.

She sighed heavily, looking down at the twinkling lights of London, England. She felt as though she should be feeling.. something. Self-pity, maybe? But she felt nothing. No joy, no anger, no resentment, no longing. Widow was an emotionless woman, a mere shell of the bubbly, outgoing person she used to be. Again, the feeling of wanting to feel something. She wasn't sure if that in itself was an emotion, but if it was, Widow was glad to feel it.

Reaching down beside her, Widowmaker lifted the one-of-a-kind Widow's Kiss sniper/assault hybrid rifle into her arms, caressing it as one would hold a lover in their embrace after a night of passionate lovemaking. The rifle had been crafted specifically for her use only. Each curve of the stainless steel weapon fit her hands perfectly. If used correctly, the gun was one of the deadliest weapons in the world. When used in close-quarters-combat, the weapon functioned as an assault rifle with a 30-round clip, firing at a rate of ten rounds per second. When used at long range, however, the rifle became much deadlier. The weapon charged the longer she looked through the scope, multiplying the damage tenfold. A headshot would take out pratically any target, Omnic and human alike.

The similarities between her weapon and herself were eerie. Widowmaker had been crafted by geneticists and biologists of the world's most powerful and deadly terrorist organization, Talon. Her skin was cool blue in color, the result of drastic slowing of her heart rate to approximately ten beats per minute, thus decresing her overall body temperature. This rendered her virtually invisible to most detection systems.

Looking at the scope of her weapon, Widowmaker noticed the reflection of her golden eyes glinting in the fading sunlight. Another product of Talon's ruthless experiments, her eyes could see farther and better than any normal human. This allowed her to easily identify targets in battle or on missions. Widow frowned at what she saw in her own eyes; or, more accurately, what she wished she saw. Her eyes were filled with nothing, no emotion whatsoever, as they had been for years. And they would most likely stay that way until the day she died.

The only emotion Widowmaker ever felt even a sliver of was pleasure, and she felt it after one thing and one thing only: cold-blooded murder. After all, that was the sole purpose of her existence; to kill. Any and every threat to Talon had to be disposed of, and thanks to them, she excelled at the act of ending lives. Whether it was ultimately for the greater good was debatable, but that didn't matter to Widow. In the end, all that mattered was the thrill she felt as a bullet entered the forehead and exited through the back of the skull. She thrived when she watched a body fall to the ground in slow motion, the light of life fading from the targets eyes as if the sun were setting instantaneously.

Sighing heavily again, she set the rifle aside, gazing over the sparkling labyrinth of nighttime London as she lit a cigarette. Widow inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of the chemical-ridden tobacco on her tongue, and the slight head rush the nicotine gave her. To her, each of those shimmering lights represented a life; a life that could be taken away at any second, stolen without warning. A life that could be taken by her. All it took was for her superiors to speak into the microscopic earpiece she wore at all times and order her to eliminate someone. And she would do it, without even thinking twice, because the act of cold-blooded murder (she chuckled at the irony of her thoughts) was the only thing Widowmaker was truly capable of.

She flicked the butt of her cigarette with her ice-cold thumb, watching with mild fascination as the grey and black particles drifted away in the slight breeze. Taking another deep puff, she held the smoke in her lungs briefly before expelling it into the cold night air with a long breath. Well, the air would be frigid to anyone else; her body was substantially less sensitive to climate change as a result of the brutal changes Talon's leading geneticist, Dr. Moira O'Deorain, had forced on to her unwilling body. In effect, she could endure both sweltering heat and freezing cold without batting an eyelash.

Tossing the butt of the smoke onto the ground four stories below her, she stood, using one long, toned leg to kick her rifle up into the air, snatching it easily with one hand. It was a practiced maneuver, that; one that had been drilled into her during the countless rigorous training sessions she'd been forced to undergo after her new body had completely healed. Given the choice, she would have refused, but the thought of enduring more torture at the hands of Talon made her shudder. So she obliged, and in doing so, became the world's deadliest assasin.

It had taken time to adjust to her new body. Still, after years of being gawked at every day, she wasn't used to looking in the mirror each morning and seeing blue skin, waist-length purple hair and golden eyes. She knew that she didn't want to see that, but she was unsure of what exactly it was she wanted to see. Widowmaker's past was hazy at best, and completely forgotten at worst. Talon's cruel methods of transformation had repressed every memory she had of her former life (that was how she saw it; two separate lives lived by two separate people. It was a bitter but realistic outlook.) She knew the memories were there; it was impossible to completely erase them. They were under lock and chain, residing in a coffin deep within the recesses of her mind. Whenever she tried to access them, a blinding, crippling headache struck her, rendering her completely useless. She had learned the hard way to avoid those thoughts.

Even now, she felt the tingling of pain at her temples as she even thought about thinking about her past. The fact that she was even having these thoughts assured her that she was due for another memory reset. Each time her memories threatened to burst through the implanted barrier in her mind, Widowmaker was forced to undergo a "reset". She wasn't sure how exactly it was done, but every time she woke up, she felt that familiar emptiness again. It was almost comforting in a twisted way.

Shaking her head to clear it, she spoke into the comm device fastened to her ear. "I am on my way to the target. ETA approximately five minutes." Her voice was cold yet soft; a silk scarf covered in the thorns of roses, completed with a heavy French accent. That was the only part of herself she was allowed to keep; she was French. She spoke and thought in the language, and she thought that if that were taken away from her, she would turn her rifle on herself and pull the trigger with no hesitation.

Raising her left hand, she fired a grappling hook at the building across from her. Widow didn't bother looking down before she dropped; her irrational fear of heights had dissipated years ago. She dropped like a bomb, swinging in a graceful arc before flipping and landing on her feet on top of the next building. She hit the release button on the grappler, and the hook slid into its casing with a satisfying metallic _chink_.

She repeated the maneuver effortlessly over and over, making her way stealthily through the night towards her target. Tonight's victim would cause quite the uproar; she was tasked with eliminating the Omnic monk and peacekeeper Tekhartha Mondatta. Mondatta was a modern day Buddha; his life goal was to repair the ever-growing rift between Omnics and humans. His teachings and philosophies were read, absorbed and practiced worldwide. However, there were a few who frowned upon his outlook, and even fewer who outright denied him. Talon were one of those few. For some reason or other, Mondatta was considered a thorn in Talon's side, and therefore his elimination was necessary.

Her mission should go easily, with no complications. Nothing made tonight's goal any different than the countless other eliminations Widow had been tasked with in her years as the world's deadliest hitman. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself. Something about tonight felt.. off to her. She kept a wary eye on her surroundings as she traveled through the night, but no threats arose. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was very, very wrong. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Widowmaker approached the location of Tekhartha Mondatta's peace rally.

She dropped silently onto the rooftop of the building across from Mondatta's stage and rolled behind a large AC duct, popping up in a crouch. Already, she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins. The sounds of the guards making their rounds drifted over to her, and she knew she'd have to take more than one life tonight. The thought sent a twisted shiver of anticipation down her spine and a spark of desire to her core.

Peeking over the top of the duct, she quickly counted five guards circulating the area. Mondatta needed all the security he could get; his life was invaluable. Each soldier had a heavy assault rifle in his arms and a pistol at his side. They were clothed in black, their faces painted dark in order to stay hidden in the night if the need arose. Smirking to herself, she looked down the scope of her rifle, watching as the damage it would put out quickly climbed to ten times the regular. Within the span of a second, she aimed, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The guard dropped, what was left of his head pooling on the ground under him in a sick display of abstract art.

Widow leapt into action, sprinting at an almost inhuman speed and snapping the neck guard so fast he barely had time to see what was coming."Target eliminated," she said to herself softly. "Times _deux_." She looked around warily, expecting the other three guards to be rushing her, but nothing seemed amiss. Still, the ever-present feeling in her gut that something was _wrong_ wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she tried to banish every thought of failure or complications.

She moved swiftly, dispatching the last three guards with ease. Barely a minute had passed before three corpses lay at her feet, the light gone from their eyes. They stared blankly at nothing, two of their faces twisted in a grimace of extreme pain. She had not been gentle with them, snapping their spines and severing their vocal cords so they couldn't scream. They were forced to write silently in agony before Widow put a bullet between each of their eyes.

She knew now that she had a limited amount of time to complete her task before the guards' absence would be noticed. The time to act was now.

Widowmaker manually unwound the grappling hook and searched quickly for a place to secure it. She noticed a set of iron stairs leading to the floors below her and walked over to it swiftly. Making sure the hook was firmly in place and wouldn't become detached, dropping her to her death, she wrapped the wire around her leg and tucked the casing into her belt. Slowly, she lowered herself upside down until the target came into sight through a narrow gap between two pillars.

Taking a deep breath, she eyed the target through her scope. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, giving her a high that nothing else could come close to. Elation filled her heart briefly before it was consumed by that raging feeling of something being _wrong_.

She heard it. The scuffle of feet on the rooftop above her. Panic rose in her throat; she was in no position to fight. If she was found, she was as good as dead; or worse, captured and taken prisoner. Before she could even begin to formulate a plan, the voice of her enemy spoke.

"Whatcha lookin' at, love?"

/

Lena Oxton, better known by her call sign Tracer, was walking briskly through the streets of London. Beside her strode Genji Shimada, wearing a heavy black trench coat to hide his cybernetic body. "I don't like this, Lena," he muttered robotically, and she sighed. Tracer had practically had to beg Jack Morrison to let her go watch Mondatta's rally in the first place.

" _Absolutely not," he said flatly, narrowing his eyes and crossing his muscular arms. Jack Morrison, aka Soldier 76 to the world, was an intimidating man. Standing at over six feet tall, his body was lean from rigorous military training and extensive workouts. Scars criss-crossed his skin, past wounds from bullets and shrapnel the never fully healed. His eyes were cold and bright, the result of having been forced to see many things the human eye should never have to witness._

 _"Jack, come on, love. You know how much this stuff means to me," Tracer plead. Despite the difference in their heights, Tracer was unafraid of the war veteran in front of her, even though he was technically her boss. Tracer was a slim brunette, with short, messy hair and warm hazel eyes. Her body was toned, though not to the extent of Morrison's; as a woman, she abhorred the idea of looking like.. that._

 _"Do you think I care, Oxton?," Soldier snapped back, getting slightly annoyed with the bubbly Brit standing her ground in front of him. "I can't afford to lose you, Lena. You're the best agent I have. Without you, there may as well be no Overwatch."_

 _Lena sighed, and she knew he was right. Overwatch had recently been recalled; the heinous acts being committed by Talon coupled with escalating conflicts between Omnics and humans were getting out of hand, and despite what the UN thought, the world needed a task force built to handle this magnitude of violence. Putting it bluntly, the world was teetering on the brink of a fourth World War, one that humanity itself had no chance of surviving. "Then don't send me alone," she retorted. "Genji can come, or Angela, or Winston. Winston could use an outing. He's been cooped up in that bloody lab of his ever since I got here."_

 _Jack considered it briefly. Oxton was right about Winston; he spent entirely too much time isolated in his laboratory, working on God knows what. Granted, it was probably something genius and spectacular, but even genius apes needed a break once in a while. "Fine," he relented unenthusiastically. "Genji and Winston will accompany you. But be careful, Tracer," he said forcefully, looking down straight into her eyes. "Talon could be anywhere. I have a hunch that they're planning something to do with Mondatta. I doubt they'd have the balls to off him in public, but who knows.. that sniper of theirs could be in and out before we even blink."_

 _Lena nodded and had to physically stop herself from throwing her arms around her boss. "Thank you, Jack!," she squeaked happily. "I know how to take care of myself, love. If I didn't, I'd probably look a bit more like you. And what girl would want that?" she teased with a cheeky wink before turning on her heel._

 _"Oxton!," Soldier barked, and she sighed before turning back to face him. "Yes, sir?" she replied, a pained expression on her face. She was truly over the pep talks and advice Jack shoved down her throat every time she ventured an inch from Gibraltar. She did know how to take care of herself; the Chronal Accelerator anchored to her bodysuit made sure of that. Without it, she'd float away deep into the caves of time. Lena shivered at the thought of going through that again._

 _Jack cleared his throat, his face softening a tad. "Don't separate yourself from the others unless you have to. And if you do have to, make sure it isn't for very long, and make sure they aren't far away. You aren't invincible, Tracer. Don't forget that." He turned on his heel and stared out the window of his office, effectively ending that conversation._

 _Tracer huffed. "Roger that," she muttered, giving Morrison's back a sarcastic salute. She turned around again and left his office, waiting until the doors slid closed behind her before skipping down the ramp, smiling widely to herself._

 _Lena wore her heart on her sleeve; she was among the most compassionate and caring agents Overwatch had ever seen. She would do absolutely anything and everything in her power to lessen someone's suffering if given the opportunity. She was a strong advocate for world peace, and was particularly passionate about Omnic-human relations, which was why she looked up to Tekhartha Mondatta so much. It was also why she got along so well with Zenyatta, the Omnic monk Jack had acquired.. She realized she didn't know where Jack had found Zenyatta, and shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that his soul is pure, more pure than most humans I've met."_

 _She made her way slowly to her quarters, making sure to stop by Winston's lab on her way. "Whatcha workin' on, big guy?," she asked as she approached him from behind. She felt at home in Gibraltar's laboratory; it had been here where Winston developed the chronal accelerator, pooling his knowledge with Mercy's to save her life and inevitably becoming one of her closest friends in the process. "Pharah's suit needed some minor adjustments. A rocket misfired on the practice range," the ape replied absentmindedly. Tracer could tell he was focusing on the task at hand, and she sighed heavily._

 _"Why don't you take a break, love?" she asked quietly. "When was the last time you even left the Watchpoint, Winston?" The ape turned to her, a slight frown on his face. "I can't exactly go out in public, Lena," he said dryly. "I'm a talking ape." She laughed at the seriousness in his deep voice. "Well, do I have good news for you, love!" Lena said cheerily. "I convinced Jack to let me go to Mondatta's rally in London tonight. Under one condition.." she wrung her hands, feeling a tad embarassed. "You and Genji have to come with me." She braced herself mentally for his refusal and the pending argument, so Tracer was pleasantly surprised when he pondered the idea for a few seconds before nodding._

 _"Wait, you aren't gonna argue?" she asked, her surprise showing in her voice. Winston shrugged. "I suppose you're right; it'll be nice to get out of the lab for a while. And I can't really disobey Jack," he added as an afterthought, but Lena knew him well enough to know that that was the only reason he had agreed to accompany her. A smile lit up her face as she threw her arms around Winston, or tried to; the intelligent ape dwarfed her, and her arms barely wrapped halfway around his thick body. "Thank you, Winston. You don't know what this means to me, love." She kissed his cheek before blinking out of the lab and rushing towards her apartment._

Lena was lucky that she hadn't caught Morrison in one of his legendary bad moods; if she had, she'd most likely be sporting not one, not two, but _three_ assholes by now. He would have torn her a new one, and to top it off, ripped the new one open as well. Tracer chuckled at the thought. Despite his intimidating demeanor, and him being over twenty years her senior, Lena wasn't scared of the man one bit. She knew deep down, behind the gruff exterior, lay a man with a good heart. He had saved her life more times than she could count, and for that she was eternally grateful.

Rounding the last corner, Tracer's brown eyes widened at the sight of the crowd gathered to listen to Mondatta speak. "There has to be over 5,000 people here.." she muttered to Genji, completely awestruck. He simply grunted in response.

Genji felt ill at ease in a place like this, with this many people. He was sure that if he took his hood off, each one of those 5,000-odd people would turn and stare, pointing at him and snickering behind their hands. It's not that he wasn't indebted to Dr. Zeigler for saving his life; it wasn't exactly a contest between living and dying. It was just that.. ever since his "transformation", he preferred to be alone with his thoughts. It was the easiest way to achieve inner peace.

Tracer eyed Genji sideways for a second, sensing his discomfort. She wished she could help him get over his odd aversion to crowds and people in general, but she had no idea where to begin. "You can stay back here, love," she spoke gently. "I want to get closer to the front. I promise I won't be far." Genji narrowed his eyes at her before nodding slowly. "Fine," he said curtly, ending any possible conversation they could have had. Tracer sighed heavily before turning her back on the ninja and pushing her way through the throng.

Lena slowly fought her way to the front of the crowd. She noticed that the populations of Omnics and humans seemed nearly even; she even saw human-Omnic couples. Her heart warmed at the sight. Members of both races held signs demanding peace. "Omnics + Humans = 3". "Fuck race! We are all one in the Iris!" Some of the signs were a lot more vulgar than that. She continued onwards, and just as she emerged feet away from the stage, Mondatta himself emerged to deafening cheers and roars. He was wearing robes similar to that of the ancient Buddhistts, and a pendant with the face of Buddha himself dangled around his neck. Tracer joined in the cheers, screaming until her throat began to hurt.

"Humans," he gestured to a girl of about eight standing with her parents to his right, "and Omnics," he pointed to his left, at a human/Omnic couple holding hands. "We are all one within the Iris." Tracer watched and listened, mesmerized. She hung on to his every word as though it were the only thing saving her from drowning in a raging, frothing river of violence and discrimination.

Suddenly, something in her gut clenched, and for some unknown reason, dread filled her body. She turned around, her eyes sweeping the buildings surrounding the square. she squinted, and.. she saw it. The red glint of light reflecting off of a sniper rifle scope. "Bloody hell," she hissed, and dashed off, blinking through the crowd without a second thought. She coul only hope that her chronal accelerator would be fast enough to get to the top of that building and save Mondatta's life. She was prepared to fight to the death, and kept a tight grip on her pulse pistols.

She zipped through the stairwell faster than she had ever moved before, and she was panting heavily by the time she burst through the door four stories above the ground. She gasped quietly as she saw three black-clad bodies strewn about the rooftop like a child's toys. Lena walked quietly in the direction she had saw the glint coming from, and looked down.

The assassin was wearing a skin-tight, black suit that hid almost everything, but only just. Her suit dipped deep in the torso, showing off her ample cleavage. The suit was tight enough that Tracer could see every toned muscle move as Widowmaker turned around to face her.

"Whatcha lookin' at, love?" she asked, trying to seem carefree and almost succeeding. Widowmaker chuckled before sneering at Tracer. " _Mon dieu!_ Of course it would be you," she snapped back, leveling her rifle straight between Tracer's eyes. But as she looked into those endless pools of warm brown, something.. ignited inside Widowmaker. She didn't know what it was, or why she felt it, but something inside of her was stopping her from putting a bullet between the Brit's eyes. Widow sighed. "Look, _cherie_ , this is nothing personal. I must end this man's life, else my own will be no more. Please.." She realized she wanted to use the Overwatch agent's real name, but she didn't know it. She also found that she wanted to. ".. let me have this one. I promise I will not kill you."

Tracer snorted sarcastically. "Fat chance of that, love. You know, I could simply detach that grappler of yours and you would fall to your death." She strode over to where the hook was placed, pretending to study it. When she had first seen Widowmaker hanging there, she had had every intention of ending the assassin's life, but when those cold, golden eyes met hers, all the anger she felt faded away. The pain that made Widow's eyes so bright was a pain deeper than any she had ever experienced. And now, as she stood above the sniper, she couldn't bring herself to end her enemy's life.

Widow's eyes flashed in fear, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "You would end my life without even a fair fight? _Tu es une lache, petit fille."_ Tracer didn't understand a word of Widow's last sentence, but judging by the tone of her voice, it wasn't anything particularly friendly. Tracer looked down at the assassin studying her. She had Widowmaker, the deadliest woman in the world, a wanted criminal worldwide, completely at her mercy, and she couldn't bring herself to do a thing about it. She sighed in defeat.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe she was too soft. She had to stop wearing her heart on her sleeve and start worrying about the greater good. "No, I wouldn't," she admitted sadly, and Widow smirked. She slowly pulled herself back up, climbing gracefully on to the roof of the building. She gathered the grappling hook silently before turning to look at Tracer, studying her. The girl wasn't unattractive; in fact, she was the polar opposite. Her bodysuit, while not as tight as Widow's own, clung in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. She focused on the glowing contraption centered on Tracer's chest, frowning a little.

"I stick to my promises, _cherie._ I will not hurt you." She gathered up her rifle and turned her back on Tracer. Already, the younger woman filled her mind, and she knew next to nothing about the agent.

"Wait!" Tracer mumbled without thinking. Similar thoughts were running through her head; she wanted to know this woman. Looking into those eyes had started a fire in her, one that she didn't think all the water on the Earth could possibly put out. Widowmaker turned her head, glancing at Tracer sideways. She wanted nothing more than to put her gun down and talk to Tracer, but she couldn't be sure that Tracer wouldn't shoot or handcuff her the instant she was unarmed.

Before Widow could say another word, however, a green and silver blur dashed between her and the Brit, materializing into another Overwatch agent, Genji Shimada. "Widowmaker," he ackowledged icily. "It has been some time. The pleasure is mine," he said mockingly, giving her a traditional Japanese bow. She turned around fully, pointing her gun at the ninja as he slowly pulled his katana from it's sheathe. "Let us dance," he murmured, but before Genji could dash at the blue assassin, Tracer blinked in between them. "Genji!" She fumed. "You know our orders concerning Talon agents." Genji's robotic eyes glinted in fury. "You overstep!" he snapped back, stepping aggresively towards Tracer. Widow prepared to shoot him, but Tracer stood her ground.

"This woman.. this vile monster.. slit the throat of the best agent Overwatch ever had. Gerard ran circles around even Jack, and she murdered him in his sleep, the way a coward would. She has no honor, and she deserves death!" He trained his eyes on Widow again, and Tracer snapped.

"For Christ's sake, Shimada, look at her. Do you think her skin is naturally that color?! Talon clearly fucked with her; who knows what else they screwed up in her? Hell, murdering her husband could've been something completely out of control, something they _forced_ her to do! None of us have any idea why she is the way she is. Everybody deserves the benefit of the doubt."

Meanwhile, Widowmaker was holding her head in her hands, using every ounce of effort she possessed not to cry out in pain. The mention of her late husband's name had brought on a flood of repressed memories, and the migraine headache arrived mere seconds after. The longer Tracer went on about her, the worse the pain got, until she felt something.. not break, but give in. Suddenly, the physical pain was gone, replaced by a deep ache in her heart. And she remembered.

 **So, that's chapter one.. for those of you unfamiliar with Overwatch lore, this chapter is based on the "Alive" Widowmaker short released by Blizzard. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to review or PM me, and I'll gladly answer to the best of my abilities.**

 **I'll be putting some translations in the ANs of the first few chapters, but most are repeated throughout the story, so hopefully you guys can come to recognize them and their meanings.**

 **Deux -** two

 **Mon dieu -** My god!

 **Cherie -** dearest

 **Tu es une lache, petit fille -** You are a coward, little girl

 **So, yeah. Um. I have four chapters written so far, and they'll be uploaded on a somewhat regular basis. I could use an editor, if someone would be willing to volunteer. Please review! I could use some constructive criticism!**


	2. Chapter 2

_"Je t'aime, Amelie.." he whispered in her ear as they lay in bed. The hotel room was grand, offering a breathtaking view of the Paris skyline. Amelie blushed heavily, sipping out of a flute of champagne. "More than life itself." She felt at home, laying here in his arms after a night of passionate lovemaking. "And I, you, cherie.." She whispered back into his ear, kissing him softly._

 _"Amelie.." Gerard began carefully, looking straight into her eyes. "You are my life. The basis of my entire existence revolves around you. You are my sun, the center of my galaxy. Truly, I cannot live without you, and I don't ever want to. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. You're strong, passionate, caring, intelligent.. every day, I strive to be more like you. Would you.." he swallowed, a tear slowly running down his cheek. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Amelie Guillard?"_

 _Amelie gasped, her hands covering her mouth as tears of joy spilled over and she nodded once. "Of course, mon amour," she managed to get out before he slid a ring over her finger and pulled her into his warm, safe embrace._

"Stop," Widowmaker murmured. The pain in her heart was blinding. It threatened to overwhelm her, drag her down into an abyss she was sure there was no way out of. The two Overwatch agents arguing feet away from her stopped, turning to look at her carefully. Genji's expression softened a tad before hardening again. "She is faking! She is looking for an opportunity to eliminate us! How dense can you be, Tracer?!" Before Lena could respond, a shadow fell over the three of them, and an instant later, a resounding _boom_ echoed over the rooftops.

"Enough, Agent Shimada," said a deep voice, and Widow turned to look at the newcomer. A.. gorilla? She shook her head to clear it, but he was still there. He wore a pair of spectacles on his eyes, and she got the feeling the ape was studying her as if she was a specimen of some sort. "Oxton, please explain what's going on here." Winston asked gently, and Tracer huffed before launching into a cut-down version of the past ten minutes.

"Winston, look at her, love.. she's clearly in pain, but neither of us touched her. I.. God, I was in the crowd, listening to Mondatta, and I saw the glint of her scope, so I blinked up here, but she didn't even attack me. I.. threatened her, but she didn't want to fight. And as soon as Genji showed up and started talking about her husband, she just.. I don't know what's going on, Winston, but she needs help. I don't think any of what she's done is her fault."

Winston nodded thoughtfully as Amelie watched, her vision blurry from the pain. Memories, both good and bad, were flooding her mind, each more painful than the last. Gerard's proposal, their wedding and honeymoon, days and nights spent together over years. And then, the most painful of them all..

 _Her eyes snapped open, staring at the ceiling, and immediately she knew something was wrong. She had no control over her body, yet she was aware of what was happening. She watched helplessly as she walked slowly into the kitchen, taking the largest knife she could see before making her way back into the bedroom. Gerard lay there peacefully, his chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. She wanted to cry out as her body walked around to his side of the bed, studying him. "I am sorry, mon amour," she whispered emotionlessly before plunging the knife hilt-deep into his throat. Thick, warm blood gushed over her hands, rapidly staining the sheets and pooling on the floor. His eyes flickered open, a scream dying on his lips as his vocal cords were severed. A gargling rasp was all that emerged from his throat as the light slowly faded from her husbands eyes._

A heart-wrenching scream tore itself from Widowmaker's lips, startling the three Overwatch members. She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming silently down her face. Lena was at her side instantly, crouching down beside her. "..Love?" She whispered quietly, and her voice was the only relief from the raging hurricane of pain Widow was trapped in. "What's wrong? What happened?" A low, cynical laugh devoid of any trace of humor came from Amelie's chest. "I remember," she said simply, and even Genji frowned at that.

"What do you remember, love?" asked Lena softly, already knowing the answer. Widow's shoulders sagged as she raised her head, looking deep into Tracer's eyes, and she had to resist the urge to flinch away from the sorrow and regret she saw there. "Everything," she whispered brokenly. "I remember.. him. His touch, his voice, his eyes.. Our wedding and honeymoon.. and-" Her voice broke as the memory replayed in her mind again "-his murder. I killed him, the man I loved more than anything and everything else in the universe, and I could not stop myself. _Putain, cherie,_ I watched my own body slit the throat of my soulmate, and I could do nothing to stop myself. But after that, it's a blank.. until I woke up in the medical wing of Talon, with golden eyes and purple skin and the urge to murder everything I laid eyes on." Her gaze traveled from Tracer's warm, worry-filled brown eyes to fall on Genji. "I know you do not trust me, and I do not expect you to. I am lucky my head is still attached to my body, _oui?"_ Genji nodded slowly, confused. "Believe me when I say that I had no control over anything I've done over the past years. But that.. barrier in my mind, it is gone, now." Her eyes slid to Winston. "Please, fix me," Widowmaker begged of the monkey. "Take this.. monster inside of me out. I am begging you."

Winston cleared his throat. "We'll take her back to Gibraltar. Oxton, handcuff her. It's a necessary precaution," he added before she could protest. "We need Dr. Ziegler to run tests on her before we can be certain of anything. But if her motivations are pure, I swear to you I will work with Angela to do everything in my power to make her human again." Lena frowned at that; Widowmaker may be cold and uncaring, but to call her inhuman seemed an insult. She decided not to argue, and sighed as she pulled the cuffs from a pouch on her belt. "I won't let them hurt you, love," she whispered in Amelie's ear as she gently cuffed the purple woman's hands behind her back. "I promise." That last sent a shiver down Widow's spine, though of what she couldn't tell, yet. Fear, maybe? Or desire? She wasn't sure; emotions in general were new to her. All she knew was that she felt something for Lena Oxton. And, unless she was completely off in her reading of Tracer's body language, Lena Oxton felt something for her, too.

Tracer sighed inwardly as she helped Widowmaker stand up. She looked at Genji before pointing at the long, purple rifle laying on the ground. Genji mumbled something under his breath before gingerly lifting the rifle in his arms, holding it out in front of him as if it would bite him. "It doesn't bite, you know," Widow purred. She still longed to hold the gun in her arms, and pull the trigger, but the urge was nowhere near as bad. Before, it had been her purpose in life, the only thing she excelled at. Now, it seemed like more of a hobby than anything.

Winston spoke softly into his comm device, and within seconds, an Overwatch shuttle swooped up from the ground, parking at the roof's edge and extending a ramp in order for the party of four to safely enter the cabin. Tracer sat down beside Widowmaker, leaving a few chairs between them and the other two members. She understood their concerns, because they weren't unwarranted, but rage still boiled in her blood as she thought of the way Genji would have ended Widow's life without even thinking twice.

That thought made her think of Widowmaker, even though she was sitting right beside Lena, staring out the window as the lights of London flashed by beneath them. She was clearly deep in thought, and Tracer didn't want to interrupt her. Instead, she studied the woman sitting handcuffed beside her. She noticed the way her hair glistened in the fading light, and she somehow knew that if she had the opportunity to run her hands through it (which, she admitted, she might not be able to stop herself from doing), it would feel like a silk waterfall in her hands. The golden orbs that were her eyes, no longer empty, but filled instead with pain, regret, and.. longing? Lena thought that was right. She admired the muscular body beneath that skintight suit, the way each muscle and joint rippled when Amelie adjusted her position. Lena wanted nothing more than to peel that suit off the purple woman and admire the flawless body beneath it.

And thinking of Widow made her blood boil again; this time, the rage was directed at whoever thought it was okay to experiment on an innocent woman and turn her into a ruthless killing machine. She had always hated Talon, but this newfound knowledge made her want nothing more than to eliminate each and every member of the terrorist organization one by one, until nothing was left but smoldering ruins. And she would do it, for Amelie. That thought scared her a little bit.

Widowmaker clearing her throat softly brought Lena out of her reverie, and the intensity of the woman's gaze on her made her blush faintly. " _Merci beaucoup,"_ Widow said softly as her eyes bore into Lena's. "You don't understand what you've done for me by saving me like this. I am forever in your debt, Tracer." At those words, something exploded inside Tracer. She knew now what the feelings she had been warring with since she found Widowmaker on that rooftop hours ago were, and she had no choice but to accept them.

Tracer looked back into Widow's bright, golden eyes, and what she saw made her sure. Unwavering devotion burned in them with the fire of a thousand suns. Barely checking to make sure the other passengers were occupied, Lena quickly leaned into Amelie and pressed her lips to hers. The assassin's lips were cold, as expected, but surprisingly soft. Even her breath was cool, washing over Lena's face as Widowmaker gasped before melting into the kiss. Neither of them closed their eyes as their lips met; the gaze they shared during that moment cemented their love for each other. Lena pulled away after she brushed her lips against Amelie's one last time, heat flooding her cheeks as she giggled softly.

 _"Mon coeur est à vous, cherie,"_ the assassin breathed. "My heart belongs to you." Tracer blushed even deeper, reaching around to give Amelie's hands a gentle squeeze in the cuffs. "I'm glad I saved you, love.." she eventually replied. Widowmaker yawned in response, her eyes fluttering a little as her fatigue hit her like a train. Tracer wrapped an arm around Amelie's shoulders, pulling her close so Amelie had a shoulder to rest on. "Sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up," she whispered, stroking Widow's long, purple hair as she nodded once before drifting off. Tracer smiled as she held the sleeping assassin in her arms, and though she tried, she couldn't resist the urge to take a little catnap, too.

"Agent Oxton, we've arrived," said a robotic voice before someone shook her shoulder. Lena groaned as her eyes slowly opened, and she saw Genji standing over her, disapproval radiating from him in waves. "Fuck off, Shimada," she muttered grumpily. "Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on." Lena knew that the cybernetic ninja was fully aware of her.. preference for the fairer sex, (after all, who wasn't? It wasn't something Tracer was ashamed of,) but instinct told her it was safer to hide her feelings towards Widowmaker for the time being; after all, she _was_ a wanted criminal, and Tracer knew that until the hitwoman in her arms was deemed "safe", any public displays of affection would just bring unwanted difficulty. Therefore, she had to act indifferent towards Widow for the time being; at least, when other people were around. "And I was comfy."

Genji studied Tracer for a time before walking off the shuttle, leaving the two alone for the first time that night. She looked down at Widowmaker sleeping in her arms, a small smile creeping across her face before it faded into a serious grimace. Lena knew that the next while would be hard for the both of them, but she would suffer as much as it took. She'd do anything in her power to make Amelie feel better again. She shook Amelie's shoulder to wake her, and steeled herself against the coming obstacles.

"Wake up, love.. we're here."

 **So, that's chapter two. I've decided that this fic is going to be rated M. There is going to be violence, torture (mainly in Amelie's flashbacks), PTSD, and sex scenes. There will be trigger warnings before major adult themes. A few things:**

 **1) I've read a few fanfics where Gerard was abusive towards Amelie, and I'd like to stay away from that cliche. My version of her is in severe emotional pain; she truly loved her husband, and she blames only herself for his death, despite it being ultimately not her fault. Also, I have a hard time writing Tracer; i'm not too familiar with British slang, so I could use some help with that if any of you are knowledgeable in that area.**

 **2) Secondly, yes, I know it's canon that Tracer is a lesbian, and Widowmaker probably isn't, but idgaf. lol**

 **3) I do not speak French. Most of Widow's phrases and words are coming from various web sources, and I can only hope that they're somewhat accurate. Sorry in advance if I screwed up anywhere.**

 **Lastly, the story is naturally going to focus on Widow and Tracer, but there will be scenes focusing on other heroes/villains of Overwatch.**

 **And, yeah. I know this chapter was quite a bit shorter, but I didn't really know where to end it. It would've been close to 7k words if I didn't split it here.**

 **As always, I'd love some input and feedback. Thank you to the few who have followed and/or favorited so far; your support means the world to me! Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts, ideas and concerns! Chapter 3 will be up in the next couple days. Until then..**

 **Adieu!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: An Ending

Amelie Lacroix opened her eyes as someone gently shook her awake, and found herself in an unfamiliar setting. She was in a shuttle of some sort, with black and orange seats lining each wall. A symbol she dimly recognized was etched into the floor of the shuttle. Widowmaker panicked, bolting upright, and tried to bring her hands up to her face to defend herself. She was met with the resistance of a pair of handcuffs.

Groaning, she looked to her left, and when she laid eyes on the woman who had saved her life, everything came flooding back to her. Jumping across the roofs of London towards her target, disposing of the guards who unfortunately wound up in her way, Tracer finding her as she was about to pull the trigger, and the agonizing pain of the memories the ninja's words concerning her late husband had triggered. She had hoped that when she awoke, those memories, and the pain they brought with them, would be gone, but they were still there. And they burned.

"Sorry, love.." Tracer said sheepishly, gesturing to the cuffs keeping her hands firmly in place behind her back. She wanted to remove them, and let Amelie walk as a free woman, but she knew that right now, that wasn't an option. "Winston deemed it an... um, necessary precaution. I promise I'll get you out of them soon enough."

Widowmaker simply nodded slowly. "I understand, _cherie_. I trust you." And she did. The fact that Tracer had saved her arch enemy's life when she easily could have ended it was testament enough to the fact. "I do have one question, though..." She hesitated as Lena quirked an eyebrow. "What... um, what's your name?" God, she felt stupid asking such a simple question, and she hoped she didn't look as stupid as she felt.

Tracer laughed softly, plopping a wet kiss on Amelie's cheek. A kiss that would make any normal person blush. As it is, she felt her impossibly slow heart rate pick up speed at the contact. "It's okay, love... my name is Lena Oxton. I'd actually prefer it if you didn't call me Tracer. It seems so... impersonal." Lena blushed before clearing her throat. "Anyways, love, we have arrived at Watchpoint Gibraltar. I'm not really allowed to give you any details as to what exactly this place is, but you'll figure it out eventually." She stood abruptly, pulling Widowmaker with her gently. Tracer slowly led the assassin down the ramp, and sighed at what she saw.

A dozen of Overwatch's best foot soldiers lined the path from the shuttle to the main base. They stood in two rows of six, one to each side of the walkway. "Bollocks, is this really fucking necessary?" she practically shouted at the first soldier she laid eyes on.

"Um, Commander Morrison's order's, ma'am," He replied in a small voice, and her eyes flashed as she nodded.

"I'm of a mind to tear that man a new asshole," she said under her breath. Tracer was sure Jack was waiting for them not too far away, and sure enough, as she looked in the window of the base's entrance, she could see their commander pacing back and forth as Winston, Genji and Angela surrounded him, clearly trying to calm him down. Lena wouldn't have been surprised if a storm had sprouted from the man's pores, judging by how pissed he looked.

She turned back to look Amelie dead in the eyes. "I don't give a fuck what they say, love. I won't let them hurt you. I'll protect you, even if it means.." Oxton realized she didn't know how to finish that sentence, maybe because of the endless list of things she thought she'd do to keep the Talon master assassin safe, or maybe because she was slowly beginning to realize that she really didn't know this woman at all. "..arguing a lot." She finished lamely, and squared herself as she marched forward towards the inevitable argument waiting inside the base.

Widowmaker followed her meekly, keeping her head down and her gaze on her feet in front of her. She could already hear the soldiers whispering about her, most likely wondering why on Earth she was here, let alone alive. She tried to tune the soft voices out, casting her mind about for something to distract her. Naturally, she came to one thing: the kiss her and Lena had shared earlier, before she had fallen into the best sleep she had had in years.

The memory of that kiss, her first since Gerard, set her insides on fire in a way that she had never felt, not even with her late husband. She hadn't thought it was possible to love again after Gerard lay dead at her hands, but within mere hours, the petite British woman walking ahead of her had flipped that idea completely on its head. While she still mourned her late husband, Amelie was already picturing life with the Overwatch agent. She imagined sharing a bed, and an apartment. She watched herself propose to Tracer, and saw the two of them grow old together.

 _Stupid,_ a small voice in the back of her mind said directly into her ear _. As if she'd love someone like you. You're nothing but a murderer, an abomination. You deserve the death penalty._ And Widowmaker knew that the voice wasn't wrong. She'd killed thousands of people, doing everything in her power to bring the very organization of which Lena was part of down in flames. _That kiss meant nothing. She just wanted to comfort you. You aren't worth loving, especially for someone like her_. Desperately she pushed the negative thoughts away, but before she could try to find something else to dwell on, the mechanical hiss of a doorway startled her. She looked up to see four members of Overwatch staring intently at her.

Genji's mechanical mask was unreadable, but hatred rode off of him in waves. That was acceptable; apparently, Gerard had been the ninja's best friend, though she didn't remember the two ever spending any time together. Both Winston and the stunning blonde woman beside him looked merely curious. God, that must be Mercy, she thought warily. At least she doesn't look like she wants to kill me. She knew the legends and stories about Dr. Angela Ziegler; she was the world's best medic, plain and simple. She had developed countless life-saving technologies and won numerous prestigious awards for her work, though apparently some of her work was ethically questionable. She'd save countless lives on and off the battlefield, likely more than Widowmaker had taken in her years as a master assassin. Hopefully, the doctor could find it in herself to save hers.

The last man, standing slightly ahead of the other two, was who worried her the most. Jack Morrisson, callsign Soldier 76, was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Or, more accurately, an expression that flashed through emotions so quickly it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking. She caught flashes of confusion, anger, sympathy, hatred, and.. betrayal?

"Angela.." said Tracer, and the two embraced tightly. Watching the exchange created a pang of jealousy in Amelie's gut; she wanted to be the one holding Lena as if she'd never let go.

"Christ, Lena, you don't know how to stay out of trouble, do you?" asked the doctor sternly with a slight Swiss accent, a motherly expression on her otherwise smooth face. The corner of Mercy's mouth twitched, the only betrayal of her true emotions.

"You know me, love. Trouble's my middle name," Tracer winked at Dr. Ziegler, and Widow harrumphed to herself.

Morrison still hadn't taken his eyes off of Widow, though, and that was starting to worry her. "Shimada, you're dismissed for now. I'll need you back here later with Agent Oxton for a debriefing, though." The pair saluted before exiting through a door on the far side of the room, leaving Widow alone with Lena, Winston, Angela and Commander Morrison. She glimpsed a large hall lined with steel tables through the door the agents left through. A mess hall, perhaps? Before she could continue with this line of thought, Jack cleared her throat.

"So.. Amelie," he said in a rough, gravelly voice. "Winston and Tracer tell me there's signs that you've been mind controlled by Talon. Is this true?" He spoke emotionlessly, all business. She raised her head to look directly into those cold, blue eyes, trying her best not to show her fear.

"It is.. difficult to explain, sir. I remember much of what Talon did to me, but there are gaps. I know that the murder of Gerard was not my own doing. That.. is burned into my mind forever." Tears threatened to overflow again, and Tracer put a hand on her back, rubbing slow circles in order to soothe her. "I do not expect any of you to trust me. But at the mention of my late husband's name, something in my mind gave way. The memories flooded back into me, and with them a pure hatred of Talon that will not go away until they are no more. Those _cretins_ destroyed my life, and it will never be the same because of them. I am willing to undergo any procedures necessary to procure your unwavering trust in me." If that isn't good enough, I don't know what is, she thought heavily.

Tracer practically glowed with pride as the words flooded from Amelie's mouth. _She really is strong.. and beautiful, and very tempting.. but you have to be careful, Lena.._ With each passing minute, doubts and insecurities wormed their way deeper and deeper into her mind; doubts that weren't exactly unfounded. Still, she was proud of the ex-Talon member for openly defying her captors and attempting to earn the trust of Overwatch. "I heard her scream when she remembered Gerard, Jack.." Lena said seriously, the memory breaking her heart all over again. "It wasn't fake. She regrets everything she's done, despite it all being out of her control. I will personally vouch for her, and I won't let you hurt her. She's just as much a victim as every person she assassinated for them." She put her hands on her hips, glaring at her boss.

Jack's gaze slid from Widowmaker to Tracer. If he wasn't mistaken, the two were already a couple, even if they didn't know it themselves, yet. He had learned to read Tracer like a book over the past years, and he could see the affection and loyalty in her eyes every time she glanced at the purple woman. Still, he couldn't be sure this wasn't all part of some grand scheme concocted by Talon themselves. His intuition told him to be careful. This act of defiance and defecting could be just that: an act. He focused on Angela, silently asking her opinion.

Angela knew Tracer better than anyone else; the two had been best friends for years. She could read the Brit better than even Morrison could, and at one glance, Mercy could tell that her best friend was hopelessly head over heels for the prisoner in front of her. Angela also trusted Tracer's judgement better than anyone's; if Lena didn't like someone, there was a good reason for it. Conversely, if she loved someone, that person was trustworthy, unless they hurt Lena eventually. Still, the logical part of her mind told her that she needed to run tests on the assassin before she could make an accurate, informed decision.

"I believe Lena," she began simply, and both of the other women's eyes lit up, Tracer's with hope and Widowmaker's with disbelief. "I know her, Jack. If she trusts the woman, I do, too. Despite that, I must be thorough and professional in this, and therefore I must run tests on you, Amelie," she directed the last at the subject of the conversation herself. "I can't even begin to imagine what those bastards did to you, but I promise you nothing we do here will be even a thousandth as inhumane or twisted as the torture you must have been put through. I am a doctor, and I will fix you. That, I promise."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. Winston had come to the same conclusion, and his intelligence was only surpassed by Mercy herself. "Winston said the same. Genji, however, was understandably rather.. unforgiving." He turned his attention back to Amelie, his gaze softening. His mind was already almost made up, and the words Tracer uttered next confirmed his decision.

"Look at her, Jack. Really look at her. Her eyes, her skin.. none of that is normal. And I know you can see the emotion in her eyes. She's been tampered with, like a broken toy, over and over again. She needs us, more than anything. Please, give her a chance." Lena's voice was soft but serious, and Jack found himself nodding in agreement.

"The hardships our enemies have put you through are unforgivable, Amelie. Your case alone is.. hell, if I could, I'd arrest them and have them executed for human rights violations right this second. However, Dr. Ziegler is right; we have to be sure. And in order to appease the rest of our organization, for the time being, you'll have to be held as a prisoner." Fear flashed across Widowmaker's gorgeous face, and regret across Morrison's. "You'll be well taken care of. I'll assign an agent to personally watch you around the clock, and I have a feeling Lena here is the best option for that."

Winston cleared his throat, causing everyone to suddenly remember his presence. "Yes," he said carefully in his low, gravelly voice. "It will take everything both Dr. Ziegler and I have, but I will do my best to remove any trace of them from your mind, Amelie. I will not hurt you," he finished solemnly, his face softening as he saw the pain the woman was truly in.

Widow sighed audibly in relief, as did Tracer. Everything would be okay as long as Lena was by her side. She was positive of that. The funny, outgoing, bubbly woman standing by her side was the only thing she truly felt like she needed anymore. "You are welcome here, love. Don't forget that. I'll always be with you." She whispered softly, and squeezed Amelie's hand, sending another shiver of what she now fully recognized as desire down her spine.

"Winston, Angela, if you don't mind escorting our guest to her quarters, I need to have a word with Agent Oxton. I'll send her in your direction afterwards." Shit, thought Tracer, panic bubbling up inside of her. How can he possibly know already? Am I that obvious? I hope she doesn't think I'm stupid.. What if she doesn't want me? What if she only kissed me back because she hadn't been kissed in God knows how long? Lena nodded slowly, swallowing past the growing lump in her throat.

"As you wish, sir," the remaining pair of agents murmured in unison, and before another word could be said, they ushered Amelie out of the room through another door she hadn't noticed before. This one led to a covered walkway, giving a breathtaking view of the Strait of Gibraltar as the sun set. The rays of sunshine reflected off of the blue water, creating an image of millions of bright diamonds twinkling in the ocean. "What time is it?" Widow asked suddenly, realizing she had no idea how much time had passed between her capture and their subsequent arrival at the Watchpoint.

"It's almost 10 pm," replied Angela. "It's been almost 24 hours since Lena found you. The ride from London to Gibraltar isn't a short one." She smiled warmly at the former assassin, and Amelie found herself already enjoying the company of the other woman, though not in the same way she enjoyed Tracer's company. Granted, it may have been the fact that these people, who had every right to slit her throat, were being nice to her; they were the first people who had treated her like a person in years.

"Merci," she murmured, smiling back warmly at the doctor.

The trio came to another door, one that didn't open automatically. Angela typed in a password deftly on a holographic pad to the right of the doorway before stepping forward. A laser quickly scanned her from head to toe before a robotic voice announced, "Angela Ziegler: authorized." "Thank you, Athena," replied Mercy graciously before leading Winston and Amelie through the door.

Meanwhile, Tracer stood in front of the commanding officer of Overwatch, intently studying the ground between her feet. "Take a seat, Lena," Jack offered her, sitting in one of two chairs sporting the Overwatch logo and gesturing to the other. Lena sat down timidly, still avoiding her boss's gaze. She knew she was in shit, and heaps of it. "I'm not mad," Morrison began, and disbelief brightened Tracer's eyes as she finally met his gaze. "You're.. not?" she whispered, clearly confused, and he nodded in confirmation. Relief flooded through every inch of Lena's body.

"No. I know you, Tracer, and I trust you. My trust is hard to come by, especially after Reyes.." he trailed off, his mind going back to the day his best friend and former second in command had turned his guns, and those of the officers in his command, on Jack and the rest of Overwatch. "I can tell you care about her, and that she isn't going to be a quick lay. I just.. she's damaged, Lena, more than the rest of us combined. Be careful with her; Angela mentioned to me that she may have to deal with severe PTSD, and you don't know what her triggers are yet. I'm fairly certain she's trustworthy, but until Mercy runs her tests, we can't be positive of anything. Just.. be careful, okay? I told you this before we left, and I'll tell you again; we can't afford to lose you." He said the last sentence forcefully, trying to drill into her brain how important she really was to their cause.

Lena sighed, letting her mentor's words sink in slowly. "You're right," she muttered, hanging her head. "Hell, I don't even know the woman, Jack. But, God, do I ever want to. It's just.. I dunno, love, I guess I just thought I'd never feel the shit I'm feeling right now ever again. And the fact that it has to be her of all people complicates things. Is it.. wrong.. to want to get to know her better? Even if I may or may not have, um, accidentally kissed her already?" Lena looked straight down at the ground; she truly felt like an idiot. She had been so caught up in the feelings she thought she had for this woman that she never truly stopped to think about how hard it would be for them to be together. And kissing Amelie the way she had was not going to help things in that regard. Was it even worth it?

Jack looked at Lena, scrutinizing her. He could tell she was having a hard time working out how she truly felt. "Love is.. difficult, Lena. Especially in a situation like this. But you're strong enough to make it through anything, and I think she is, too. The two of you have my blessing. However.." he sighed heavily before continuing. "I don't think it's a good idea to go public with your relationship quite yet. I need you to wait at least until she's cleared by Angela. We can't have our agents not trusting one another, not when Overwatch has just been recalled. We haven't even got our bearings yet, nor all the recruits I want. Please, Lena.. just wait."

Lena was slightly confused. In all her years as an Overwatch agent, she had never seen Jack betray this much emotion. The man was normally a stoic statue, devoid of anything except occasional outbursts of devastating anger. She knew that if something caused him to act this way, it must be important. And, besides.. "Well, there isn't really a 'relationship', yet.. but I agree. If anything does come of it, it'll be kept private, love. You have my word." Tracer stuck her hand out and shook with her boss firmly.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, surprising Oxton yet again. "We'll move the debriefing to tomorrow morning. Since it wasn't officially a mission, we technically don't need one, but I want one. Also, I'll get Athena to send you what info we have on Amelie. Um.." he hesitated again. "Some of it isn't pretty. That's all I'm willing to say. Now, go find her." He stood up, officially ending their conversation. Tracer gave him a brief salute before dashing off in the direction her lover had gone.

" _Mon dieu_ , this is a cell?" Widowmaker asked in disbelief. The "cell" she had been given was practically a one bedroom apartment; it contained a queen-sized bed, a full bath equipped with a shower and a bathtub, and a walk in closet. There was even a small mini-fridge, though she couldn't imagine how she'd put that to use; Widow could go weeks without nourishment due to Talon's rigorous experimenting on her body. She thought dimly that the long-term effects of all these experiments were virtually unknown.

"Ja," replied Mercy. "We don't believe in treating people as though they are less human than others. Everybody deserves to feel at home, even if they are a prisoner. It helps," she stated, walking into the room behind Amelie. Winston chose to remain outside, partially due to the fact that the gorilla had a hard time fitting through the very human-sized doorway. "Two guards will be posted outside at all times, whether you have a.. visitor or not. Standard procedure. They, along with Lena, will escort you to wherever you need to go. Additionally, you will have a hard time finding something in this cell to harm yourself with. We know that there's always a possibility of that." Widow turned to the doctor, her eyes glistening.

"Merci, Dr. Ziegler," she spoke in her soft French accent. "You have no clue what this means to me." Before she knew what she was doing, she was wrapping her arms around the doctor, hugging her tightly.

"Well, that is something we can discuss during our tests," Mercy replied, awkwardly hugging the taller woman back. She tried to pull away, but Amelie refused to let go quite yet, so she simply stood there as the assassin held her, her eyes shut tightly to stop tears from pouring out.

"Can't you two keep it in your pants?" said a British voice from the direction of the doorway, fake annoyance clear in her voice. Widow jumped away from the blonde doctor, startled and embarrassed to be caught in such an act. She relaxed when she saw the adorable lopsided grin on Lena's face. Tracer was leaning in the doorway; she'd been there for almost a full minute, but she hadn't wanted to interrupt. She needed to let Amelie feel these emotions, but eventually jealousy took over and she made herself known.

"Kidding, loves," Lena said as she walked into the room, her hands in her pockets. "So, Amelie.. I've, uh, been assigned to be your personal guard while you're a prisoner. Which means I'll be.. um, watching over you quite a bit." The three of them cringed at her pun, a small smile stealing across Widowmaker's face and a look of disgust painting Mercy's.

"Well, I'll.. leave you two alone, then. And, Lena?" she beckoned the Brit closer, whispering in her ear. "Keep it in your pants, ja? At least for a while." Tracer blushed crimson, nodding as she stammered. "Y-yeah, of course. I'm not retarded, love. Go away!" she demanded, completely flustered with no idea why. Normally, talking about sex with her best friend wasn't weird at all; hell, she remembered countless times where she'd gone into very fine detail with Angela about her.. conquests. But with Amelie, things felt.. different. She hadn't actually even planned on taking Widowmaker to bed.

Mercy giggled as she left the room, the door sliding shut behind her and leaving the two truly alone for the first time. They hadn't been alone on the shuttle, and even when they landed, there were numerous Overwatch personnel outside. Now, there was nobody to disturb them. "Um, here.. let me uncuff you," Lena said awkwardly, pulling the key out of her belt pouch. Widow nodded, at a loss for words. She turned around and sighed when Lena removed the cuffs. Her wrists felt a bit raw from the steel contraption.

"Merci, _cherie_ ," Amelie spoke softly as Tracer busied herself putting the cuffs in her pouch, looking everywhere except into Widowmaker's eyes. Her mind was racing in circles; she knew she felt something for the purple assassin standing before her. She didn't know exactly what she felt, though.. it could be just a crush that would fade in a few days, a week at most. But a part of her mind knew that that just wasn't true; there was a fire burning inside Lena. Did she keep the fire at bay or let it rage out of control and burn everything in its path? She didn't know.

"Amelie.." she began in a small voice, still looking at the ground. This felt.. wrong, on every level. "I.. Christ, love, we barely know each other," she said, finally looking up at the assassin with red-rimmed eyes. "I can't.. Jack and Mercy could be right. You could be a trap, and I can't let myself fall into it headfirst, no matter how badly I want to. There's nothing I want more in the world than to take you in my arms, and love you, but I just.. can't.. not yet.. love?.." Tracer looked at Amelie; the assassin seemed to be seeing nothing, which admittedly had her worried a fair bit.

"I was right.." Amelie whispered into the air, still staring into nothing. "I knew that kiss meant nothing to you. I was just.. there, _non_?" She sniffed, the familiar feeling of being alone slowly creeping into her chest and mind.

"No!" Lena yelled, stepping forward and grabbing the purple woman's wrist, forcing her to look down into Tracer's warm brown eyes. "I kissed you because I feel.. something. I just.. don't know what it is yet. I don't know if it's real, and I don't know if I can trust you, or myself. You were definitely not just.. convenient, love. I just.. need some time to work through things, okay? Can you please give me that?" Lena begged, looking up into Amelie's golden orbs. The assassin's eyes were closed off, betraying no emotion.

"Take all the time you need!" Amelie snapped, snatching her arm away from Tracer's. "I'm sure you'll come to the same conclusion everyone else in my life has. Either you will find a way to use me, or you'll deem me irreparable, and leave me like a toy in the back of a child's closet."

Lena's heart broke with each word Amelie spit at her. She shook her head quickly, chewing her lip as she tried not to burst into tears. "No, love.. it's not like that.. God, I wish I could make you understand.." She couldn't, though, because Lena wasn't even sure herself how she felt about this whole situation yet.

Amelie's eyes finally found Lena's, and the Brit flinched at the pain and betrayal she saw in them. "I thought you were different, Tracer" The ex-Talon agent's voice was soft and sad, and Lena flinched again at Amelie's use of her callsign instead of her real name. "When you saved me, I felt.. free. And... wanted. I thought you wanted me. It had been so many years since someone truly wanted me, and it turned out to be nothing more than me overthinking and hoping." Tracer shook her head again and opened her mouth. A sob ripped itself from her throat as Amelie continued.

"I do love you, Lena.. I know we barely know each other, and that it's hard for you to trust me, but mon dieu, Lena, I love you.." her voice was still sad. Amelie knew that the next thing she said would hurt both of them, but it was necessary. "Lena.. I want you. All of you. Forever. But, I need you to be sure of us.. and if you can't be 100% sure of us, I need you to turn around and leave this room, and never come back. I need someone, and if you can't be that person, I never want to see your face again." Amelie bit her lip to stop herself from breaking down completely. She knew what she was asking of Lena was selfish, but it was also the cold, hard truth. _Oh, God, I shouldn't have said that.. what if she leaves forever?! Non. If she leaves, maybe it will be for the best._

Tracer simply stared at the assassin who had just declared undying love for her. "I'm sorry, Amelie.." she whispered brokenly. She knew that for now, this was the right thing to do; that didn't make it hurt any less. "I'll, um, talk to Jack and see if he'll change your guard for now.." Tracer backed away from Amelie, her eyes blurring with tears. "I-I just.. need some time." And with that, she turned and hurried out of the cell. After she got a fair distance away, she turned down an empty hall and leaned against the wall, burying her head in her hands as the sobs finally erupted from her chest.

Amelie simply slid down to the ground as Tracer left her cell. Her worst fear had come true. She felt betrayed by Lena; the woman had led her to think they would be together, and that she would finally able to be happy, only to stomp on her heart on her way out the door. Widowmaker had felt things she hadn't felt in years; alive being the most important of them all. And now she felt.. nothing. She was a spider again; she felt no emotion. Amelie stayed on the floor of her cell, curled into a tight ball, until sleep threatened to overtake her and she stumbled to the bed, tears still streaming down her face. She quickly fell into a restless sleep, her mind filled with Lena Oxton.

"Why does love have to be so goddamn hard?!" Lena yelled through the tears, sliding down the wall until she could rest her forehead on her knees. She stayed that way for a long time, until her breaths eventually came regularly and she could think straight again. The only thing on her mind was Amelie.. Lena wanted more than anything to go back to the assassin's cell and take back everything she had said, but that wasn't an option anymore. Most likely, Amelie hated her, and Lena wasn't exactly sure how to fix that if she decided that was what she wanted.

The Brit shook her head to clear it and slowly made her way to her quarters. Not even bothering to turn on the lights, Lena stripped down to her knickers and climbed into bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep plagued with thoughts and images of Amelie.

 **That's chapter 3! I'm so sorry it took so long. I had to rewrite most of it, and I had a little bit of writers block.**

 **Please don't hate me. You have to understand what Tracer's going through. She's falling in love with her arch enemy, someone every single person she cars about hates. She's scared she'll lose everything she has if she decides to be with Amelie. I'd hesitate in her position, too.**

 **Lastly, thank you guys for the views and reviews! I appreciate it all so much!**

 **PS - A double round applause for my editor, but-can-you-fly. You've made this chapter so much better than it originally was with your suggestions. Thank you so much.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Lena somehow knew she was dreaming. It was one of those odd times where you were fully aware but could do nothing to change the fact, which usually meant something either very good or very bad. Lena had a sinking feeling it was the latter this time around._

 _"Whatcha lookin' at, love?" She asked, looking down at Amelie's lithe form suspended feet below her. Widowmaker turned to glare at her, but her gaze softened, as did Lena's. "I'm not going to hurt you, love.. I promise." Lena frowned in her mind. This wasn't how this memory was supposed to play out. She watched herself walk over to Widow's grappling hook and pull the assassin up inch by inch._

 _Widowmaker brushed herself off, eyeing Lena suspiciously. "And why is that, cherie? Why haven't you killed me already?" The French woman's voice lowered to a seductive purr as she stalked slowly towards Lena. Without warning, Amelie leapt, her hands wrapping around Tracer's throat as they tumbled downwards. Lena hit the cement with a thud and a grunt, her hands instantly reaching to attempt to pry Widowmaker's from around her throat. A vicious grin spread across the purple woman's face as she squeezed harder. "It's a pity we cannot have more fun, Lena," she whispered in Tracer's ear as her vision began to blacken around the edges._

 _Tracer simply looked up into her eyes, willing her to realize what she was doing. But no light, no recognition showed in those golden orbs. Only a pure desire to kill. "I.. love you," she managed to choke out. "Always." Widowmaker's eyes widened at that, her grip loosening the tiniest bit and suddenly she grunted, her hands going slack. "A-Amelie?!" Tracer stuttered, gasping for breath. Widow's form collapsed on top of her, going completely limp. Tracer's world turned upside down as her hands slid over Amelie's dead body, feeling the three shurikens embedded in Widow's skull. The assassin's ponytail had been severed, and the purple strands of hair fell to the ground as Lena made eye contact with the man who had simultaneously saved and ruined her life._

Tracer awoke with a gasp, looking around her frantically. The room was dark, and she could see thousands of bright stars glinting in the night sky. She felt the tears cascading down her face and was powerless to stop them as the image of Amelie laying dead draped over her replayed over and over in her mind. "Oh, God.. it was a dream.. you're safe, love.." she wept softly, fully aware that Widowmaker couldn't hear her. She slowly got out of bed as she took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She hunted around her small apartment, and her mind raced as she dug through junk drawers and cabinets. Sighing as she pulled out a British cigar, she walked slowly towards the window and opened it a crack. Tracer pulled an ashtray towards her as she lit the pungent cigar. The tears slowly dried as she stared out at the night sky. The tobacco calmed her down, but there was still a knot of worry deep in her stomach that she knew would be there until Widowmaker was deemed fit to enter society.

 _Christ, Lena_ , she thought to herself. _You knew what you were getting into the moment you laid eyes on the woman. You can't expect this to be easy._ She nodded; she knew her subconscious was right. And she also knew that the nightmare she'd just been forced to endure was probably her mind warning her of things to come. The question was whether she was willing to put up with all the challenges that would inevitably arise from being with Amelie the way she wanted to. "I won't let anybody touch her," Lena growled to nobody in particular. "Except Angela. She's the only one I.. we can trust. Maybe Winston, too.."

Still, she wasn't sure how she felt about the purple assassin.. well, it wasn't really that. Lena definitely felt something for Amelie, but she still wasn't sure if it was more than a crush, a tiny infatuation that everybody felt at some point in their life. Usually it was for someone that was way out of their league, or already taken, but Widowmaker was neither. As she exhaled the tobacco smoke from her lungs, Lena realized that she did want to be with the assassin. But there were so many factors to consider..

One, the fact that Amelie could still very well be under Talon's influence, despite how vehemently she denied the possibility. It was virtually impossible to know whether anything that Widowmaker said or did was a fabrication by Talon or not. Until Angela and Winston were sure that Amelie's mind was her own, Tracer could do nothing but sit by idly. Which pained her, because without her, Amelie was completely alone.. the assassin needed somebody, anybody, but remembering Morrison's earlier words about being "vital to Overwatch's cause", Lena couldn't bring herself to take the risks of being around or with Amelie.

Sighing, Lena put out her cigar before using the washroom and getting back into bed. She wished things could be easier in this situation.. she wanted to get to know Amelie Lacroix, inside and out; she wanted to bare her very soul to the assassin, and in turn accept everything Amelie had to give. And these thoughts confused Lena; her and Amelie were still complete strangers to each other. Lena having saved Amelie's life and the kiss they had shared didn't change that fact one bit, no matter how Lena wished it did. But, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards the ex-Talon agent.. a pull that went much deeper than just physical attraction.

Tracer yawned and glanced at the time. The digital clock on her nightstand read 4:03 AM and she sighed. She had to be up and ready to go in less than 4 hours; among other things, she had to debrief Jack and go through the annoying process of requesting another agent to watch over Amelie for now. She could just imagine how well that would go over with the Overwatch commander.

Groaning, Lena pulled the blankets over her head and tried to fall asleep again amid the thoughts racing and chasing each other through her head. Eventually, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber, her head still crammed with thoughts of Amelie.

/

 _"Whatcha lookin' at, love?" said an annoying British voice from above her, and Amelie scoffed before turning her head. The anger in her eyes at being interrupted died as she saw the small brunette standing above her, her head tilted to the side and one hand on her hip, the other tapping a pulse pistol against her thigh._

 _"Mon dieu! Of course it would be you." She moved to aim directly between Tracer's eyes, but as they made eye contact, Lena's face softened, and she lowered her weapon. "Look, cherie, let's have a truce for the night, oui? Help me up, and I promise I won't hurt you." Tracer studied her carefully before nodding and walking away._

 _She felt herself being lifted foot by foot, and she dusted herself off after climbing onto the rooftop a bit clumsily. "Merci," she uttered in thanks, straightening herself as she stared at the woman before her. Tracer really was a beautiful woman; her slightly messy hairstyle and her inviting brown eyes coupled with a body that was more than hinted at by the tight bodysuit she wore made for quite the tempting combination. But Amelie knew that she was the enemy, and she must be eliminated._

 _Must she? said a small voice in the back of her mind. Widow shook her head, dispersing the thought as she slowly stalked towards Tracer. "I'm afraid our truce must end here, petit fille," she purred as Oxton slowly backed away from her. Widowmaker had transformed into a predator, and she had already chosen her prey. Widow jumped at the smaller woman, tackling her to the ground and closing her hands around Lena's throat in a vice-like grip. "It's a pity we couldn't have more fun, Lena," she whispered. How did she even know the Overwatch agent's real name? That didn't matter. What mattered was eliminating the target in front of her before moving on to the next one._

 _"I.. love you.." Lena managed to gasp, and Widow felt her eyes widen. Her grip loosened the tiniest bit, enough for Lena to use the little strength she had left to flip the two of them so Amelie was on her back. Tracer gasped again, her eyes widening as her body went limp. "Forever.. and always.." Widow felt panic rise in her chest as a final breath forced itself from her lover's chest, and Tracer's body collapsed on top of hers. She made eye contact with the cybernetic ninja sitting on his knees as her hands found the three shurikens embedded in Tracer's back and skull._

Amelie's eyes snapped open, panic coursing through her veins as the death of her lover played over and over behind her eyes. Quickly, however, she realized that, firstly, she had only dreamt of Lena's death, and secondly, that Lena was in fact not her lover. That thought brought another crippling wave of pain slamming into her chest.

Amelie had sobbed herself to sleep after Tracer had run crying from her cell. The pain of finding out everything she had thought she shared with the bubbly Brit was fake had crippled her. She'd lain on the floor of her cell for hours, curled tightly into a ball with tears streaming down her face, reliving the memories of her capture and Lena kissing her over and over as she tried to find hints that she was delusional, that Lena felt nothing for her. Amelie came up with nothing. Everything pointed to Tracer having feelings for her, which only made the fact that she didn't hurt that much more.

She felt betrayed; Lena had already broken her heart, not even a day after mending the person Talon had broken and beaten. The odd times when she would be aware of how badly they had destroyed her, usually before a memory reset, Widow would wish for nothing more than for someone to come along and fix her. She knew it was impossible to fix herself. And so, when Lena came along and did exactly that without even trying, Widow had fallen head over heels for the Overwatch agent.

And now, she was stuck. Stuck loving someone who had no feelings for her whatsoever, stuck loving somebody she didn't possibly deserve. Stuck completely alone in a place where almost everybody hated her with every fibre of their being. Amelie was lost. The only thing she'd had to hold onto was the fact that Tracer would be by her side every step of the way, and now that hold had dissipated. Amelie had nothing.

Silent tears streamed down the assassin's face again as she lit a cigarette, cracking the window of her cell. Amelie didn't smoke often, usually only when she was stressed. Mercy had understandably frowned when Widow had asked the doctor to get her a pack; she was a doctor, after all. The glass was held in place with a thick steel frame, and only opened a couple of inches, enough for a prisoner to have their last cigarette before being tortured or worse.

 _No,_ she thought to herself as she exhaled. _This isn't Talon. They don't want to hurt you. At least, the ones who really matter don't.._ Widowmaker took a deep drag, inhaling until her lungs threatened to burst. Maybe coming here was a mistake, she thought heavily. _These people want nothing more than to end my miserable life. Sacre bleu, what have I done?!_ She shook her head to clear it. Those were Talon thoughts; Lena and the Overwatch commander had guaranteed her safety. And despite Lena's betrayal, she still trusted the Brit.

Amelie tossed her butt out the window, watching it fall lazily to the ground stories below her as she replayed Tracer's last words in her head _. "I-I just.. need some time.."_ Widow snorted. If time was what Tracer needed, she could take the rest of eternity for all Amelie cared.

She laughed through her tears. That wasn't strictly true.. she was very much in love with Lena Oxton, and there was no denying that. She needed the Brit like she needed oxygen. Amelie supposed she could only hope that with a bit of time Lena would realize she shared the feelings Widowmaker had and would reciprocate them.

Calmly, Amelie sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes, folding her hands. "Um.. God?" she whispered in her silken French accent. "Look, I know it's been a while, but.. I need something. I know you've probably forsaken me.. Hell, I've forsaken myself, but please.. I beg of you to give me one last chance at happiness. Lord, she is all I see, all I want and all I need. Please let her want me.. without her I'm nothing. All I ask is to be happy with her. Amen." She opened her eyes, and within seconds, a fervent hope filled her from head to toe.

Closing her eyes, she slowly drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, her mind filled with thoughts spurred by the hope that her and Lena would be together one day.

 **So, that's chapter four. A short one, I know, but heavy nonetheless.**

 **Here are some translations. I forgot to add them for chapter 3, so I'll put those here as well.**

 **Mon dieu - My God  
** **Sacrebleu - Holy God. (The English equivalent here would be "Oh my God" if I'm not mistaken)  
** **Cherie - dearest  
** **Merci - Thank you  
** **And for Mercy: Ja - yes/yeah**

 **Also, over 400 views! Thank you guys so much! I really never thought this story would reach anybody at all, honestly. PLEASE review! Leave your thoughts, ideas, suggestions in a review or even PM me. Please don't be shy!**

 **Lastly, I'd love to actually play Overwatch with some of you. I play on PC, so send me a PM if you're down for that.**

 **Till next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please be warned that there is some graphic violence in this chapter. I've marked in bold where it begins and ends, but if it triggers you in any way, please skip that portion.**

Lena sighed in relief as the hot water soaked into her muscles, loosening the knots in her neck and back. It felt like it had been years since she'd had a shower when in reality it'd been less than two days. She reached up to massage her neck, wincing as the knots came undone. After standing with her eyes closed for a few minutes, she grabbed her bottle of lavender-scented shampoo and poured it in to her hand. She grimaced to herself when she realized that the color of the shampoo was nearly the same shade as Amelie's skin.

The curvaceous purple woman hadn't left Tracer's mind since their tearful parting the night before. She was constantly wrestling back and forth with the idea of committing herself to Widowmaker. On one hand, she _definitely_ had feelings for the assassin; there was no denying that. Every time her mind conjured up an image of Amelie, she felt warm inside and couldn't stop herself from smiling. However, there were so many risks that would come with their being together. For all she knew, Amelie could be a spy, or have plans to assassinate the entire Overwatch team, and none of them would be aware of it until it was too late. What if she slept in Amelie's bed and the last thing she heard was her own neck snapping?

 _Maybe you need to give her an honest chance, love.._ Lena thought to herself as she rinsed her hair and body thoroughly. _You can't automatically assume the worst here. Nothing good ever comes from doing that, and you know it._ She nodded and blinked as her hair flopped over her forehead, partially obscuring her view. _She's dangerous, Lena,_ whispered the other part of her mind, but she pushed those thoughts away. She refused to let her mind convince her that Amelie was the bad guy, because she wasn't anymore. Something in Tracer's gut told her that she was right about that.

Sighing again, Lena reached to shut off the water and stretched before exiting the stall and reaching for a towel. She dried herself off slowly, eyeing her slim body in the mirror. Tracer wasn't really a fan of the way she looked. She wasn't unattractive, per se; she was just.. small. Her hips and chest lacked the curves that women like Amelie naturally had. Lena's breasts were small but perky, and her butt was.. unremarkable. She looked like she was closer to the age of fourteen rather than twenty-six.

Shaking her head to rid her mind of those thoughts, Lena finished drying and wrapped the towel tightly around her body before leaving the small bathroom. She quickly donned a plain grey T-shirt and a pair of orange shorts before looking around her apartment. Her eyes immediately fell on her computer, and she eyed it warily.

" _Also, I'll get Athena to send you what info we have on Amelie. Um.. some of it isn't pretty."_ Jack's warning played through her head again as she eyed the laptop. Tracer had quickly browsed through the files before hopping into the shower, just long enough to determine that there were mountains of data and intel on Overwatch's latest prisoner. Videos, pictures, medical charts and history, school records.. they had everything. The latter couple weren't necessarily bad; reading that information might help Lena get to know Amelie better, which was completely necessary. It was the videos and pictures she was more worried about.

Jack had warned her again at the mission debriefing earlier that day. _"Have you had a chance to browse Amelie's file?" the commander had asked casually as they sat drinking steaming cups of coffee after Tracer, Genji and Winston had debriefed him._

 _"Uh.. no," Tracer muttered into her cup, biting her tongue to keep from cursing as the liquid burned her lips. "We, um.. had an argument last night when I went to see her, and I kind of forgot about it until now.."_

 _Jack eyed her. "You want me to replace you as her personal agent, correct?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Lena. She simply nodded slowly. "Well, fuck that. Lena, you're the only person in this entire compound.. no. Probably the only person in the entire universe that Amelie trusts. Sticking her with somebody else would just be cruel. I don't care what you two said to each other. You're both grown women, and you can solve your issue, or I'll solve them for you. Got it?"_

 _Tracer stared at Morrison, dumbstruck. She hadn't really expected him to cooperate, but still.. there was no need for the man to be that blunt about it. "Yes, sir," she answered finally. "Do you need me for anything else?" she asked warily, but Jack simply shook his head and shooed her away lazily with a hand._

So, now she was stuck guarding and watching over the woman whose heart she had torn to shreds. _Excellent.. just.. fan-fucking-tastic._ Feeling annoyed, Lena sat down in her computer chair and opened her laptop. She typed in her password and opened the folder Athena had sent her.

"Jesus, where do I even start?!" she murmured, scrolling through the hundreds upon hundreds of files. "They can't seriously expect me to go through all of this.. that's absurd." Sure enough, she started to notice certain folders that were named in all caps. _Those must be the important ones. I guess I'll start with the worst._ She clicked on the file titled "VIDEOS".

Lena's mouse hovered over the first video as she hesitated. _This feels so wrong.. I don't even have her permission to see this crap. I'm violating her privacy._ Still, orders were orders. Taking a deep breath, she opened the video and clicked the play button.

 ***WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND MATURE THEMES AHEAD. IF THESE THINGS TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE SKIP AHEAD.***

The first thing Lena noticed was that Amelie was still fair-skinned in this video. Her skin was a fair shade of white, although covered in bruises and scrapes, and her hair was a rich, deep brown in color. Her eyes were the deepest of blues, almost indigo. She was also wearing only tattered remnants for clothes. The walls of the room were caked with rust where water had run in rivulets. That made the room either on a boat or somewhere far below ground level, most likely close to the ocean. Widowmaker's head lolled back; she seemed to be fighting to stay conscious. A small trail of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. Tracer already felt sick to her stomach, but she forced herself to watch on.

A masked figure walked into view, brandishing a long, thin knife. The dim light glinted threateningly off of the blade. "I really am sorry, Amelie," the man said in a southern drawl. "You know, orders and all.."

Amelie glared at the man before spitting in his face. "Fuck you, _cretin._ You cannot break me. I won't let you!" Even when seething with anger, Widowmaker's voice was still seductive.

The man sighed. "You're gonna regret ever saying that," he said heavily, and without warning plunged the knife hilt-deep into Amelie's thigh. Her blue eyes bulged for a split second before an agonized shriek tore itself from her throat. Tears instantly began pouring down her face as she wrestled against her bonds, screaming over and over as the torturer wiggled and twisted the knife embeded in her leg. Blood poured from the wound, pooling on the ground below Amelie and staining her legs a bright red. Slowly, he withdrew the weapon, and just as her sceams subsided into pained whimpers, he plunged it into her other thigh.

Tracer paused the video and closed her eyes. Her stomach was turning, and she could feel the vomit in her throat, ready to erupt. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to force the nausea to pass. _My God.. I'm an idiot._ Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the image of Amelie on her computer screen. The woman's mouth was open in a heart-wrenching scream, and tears stained her cheeks. _I can't even imagine.. Fuck, that probably isn't even the worst of it.. and I just hurt her like that.. She's dealt with enough pain, and all I did was cause her more._ Lena went to bound from her chair, ready to head to Amelie's room and apologize a thousand times, but she slowly sat back down.

"There has to be more.." Lena muttered, and closed the video file. She browsed some more and found a folder titled 'SURGERY VIDEOS.' "Oh, God.." Tracer muttered, wiping at her damp eyes. "Why did they even have to fucking torture her like that?! What kind of sick, twisted bastard does that to somebody?! And on top of all the surgeries and fucked up experiments they did on her!" Lena abruptly shut her mouth, realizing that she was yelling at an empty apartment. Steeling herself, she opened the first surgery video.

 _She's awake,_ was Lena's first thought. And she was right. Widowmaker was fully aware, her bright blue eyes clouded with fear and hatred. They flashed in every direction, mostly looking at someone or something off-camera. She seemed to be to scared to speak. Amelie was strapped to a stainless steel table with no padding underneath, and completely naked. Menacing machines stuck out from the plain white ceiling, and various monitors and medical equipment sat scattered around the room.

"We will begin now," said a feminine voice off-camera, and Tracer distinctly heard the mechanical flurry of someone typing commands into a computer. Her stomach turned again as she watched what looked to be a pair of pincers slowly descend from the ceiling towards Amelie's chest. The assassin's breasts heaved as her breath began to come in rapid bursts, quickening with each inch the deadly contraption lowered itself. A second passed in which nothing happened, and then suddenly the pincers buried themselves directly into Amelie's heart. Her eyes fluttered shut as she passed out from the pain. The pincers slowly opened wide, baring Widowmaker's heart for everyone to see.

 ***END OF POTENTIAL TRIGGERS***

Lena lurched out of her chair in seconds, kneeling in front of the garbage can just in time to expel everything she had in her stomach. The video continued to play in the background, causing her to heave over and over again. After nothing but bile was coming up, she walked over to the computer and slammed it shut. "Fuck.." she exhaled in a shaky breath. "She.. needs me. She's all alone, probably replaying this shit over and over in her head while I sit here and invade her fucking privacy, and.." Lena trailed off as she dashed out of her apartment, heading towards Amelie's cell.

/

Amelie lay on top of the covers of the bed in her cell at Gibraltar. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling above her, and her purple hands were crossed behind her head. Her body was relaxed as she slowly ran her gaze over the ceiling for the millionth time that day.

She'd memorized every groove and corner of steel ceiling and walls. When she closed her eyes, it was all she could picture.. almost. After a few minutes, a certain petite, bubbly British woman invaded her mind.

Despite how they'd parted the night before, Lena was still the sole thing that occupied Amelie's thoughts. No matter how hard she tried to push awaythoughts of the woman who had torn her heart in two, Tracer always came blinking back into her mind.

Widowmaker was angry. She wasn't quite used to feeling emotions yet, but she was certain that anger was what she was feeling. Amelie was angry at, well, everything. Herself, namely, because she'd let herself fall into Lena's trap only to have her heart broken and tossed aside. She was upset at Talon for destroying her mind and body, and creating this... monstrosity she'd become. She was mad at the world for dealing her the worst possible hand. But mostly, she was _furious_ at Lena.

Amelie had worn her heart on her sleeve when Lena came to visit her in her cell the night before. She'd broken down and confessed the feelings she had, feelings she was sure Tracer reciprocated. Why else would someone kiss someone else the way Lena had kissed her? The way the Brit had comforted her during their conference with Jack Morrison and the other Overwatch agents, and the sigh of relief and look in her eyes when Jack had named her as Amelie's bodyguard.. every sign had pointed to Tracer having feelings for the assassin.

Or so Amelie had thought. Lena had put an end to that rather quickly. Tears threatened to overflow instantly at the memory of Lena walking out on her the previous night, but she forced them back, refusing to succumb to such ridiculous feelings.

Amelie felt like a preteen going through their first heartbreak. The purple woman had cried herself to sleep after Lena had sped out of her cell, and the nightmare she'd had about Tracer dying had caused a fresh river of tears to spring forth. Eventually, for the first time since she could remember, she'd said a prayer and had fallen asleep hoping that Lena would give her another chance.

Widow snorted to herself. "Pathetic," she murmured, and her voice came out raspy. She hadn't had anything to eat or drink in over a week, and her throat was slowly becoming dry. Amelie supposed that most people would find her voice seductive the way it sounded, but to her it just sounded pitiful.

Sighing heavily, she swung her long legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, meaning to grab a glass of water to quench her thirst. Before she could take a step, however, a knock sounded at the door, and her heart lept into her throat. _Stay calm,_ she chanted over and over in her mind. _If it is Lena, you can't show her how much control she has over you._

 _"Entrez,"_ she called before clearing her throat and busying herself pouring a glass of water. She heard the mechanical hiss of the door opening and closing, but Amelie still didn't turn around. She knew who was in the room with her, but Widowmaker couldn't bring herself to face Lena; she couldn't keep the pain off of her face. _Coward,_ her mind shot at her.

"Amelie.." whispered Lena, her voice cracking. "You don't have to look at me, love. I wouldn't blame you. I just.. I wanted to apologize about last night. I was.. God, I was a cunt. There's no other word for it. I was unforgivable. I made the wrong decision too quickly, I think.. I'm still not sure, but I want to be sure. I just.. please consider giving me one more chance, love. That's all I'm asking." Lena choked up at the end of her speech, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.

Amelie bit her lip and gripped the counter tightly. She wanted nothing more than to turn and leap into Lena's arms, but she had to stop herself. There was still no guarantee that Tracer would reciprocate anything. Slowly, Amelie turned around and eyed the woman standing before her.

Lena was a mess. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and her nose was running as she sniffled and stared down at the ground, wringing her hands. Her dark hair was a dishevelled nest, and the bags under her eyes made it seem as if she hadn't slept in days. She was wearing a form-fitting grey T-shirt and a pair of loose bright-orange shorts, showing off her legs and hiding almost nothing from Widow's imagination. Even with the state the Brit was in, Amelie still thought Lena was the most beautiful thing she'd ever lain eyes on.

"I.. don't know what to say, _cherie.._ " Amelie began carefully. "I needed you. I needed you more than I needed oxygen, and you know that, and still you left me here alone. It.. hurt, Lena. I have never felt pain like that in my life; not even the pain of dealing with Gerard compares to this." She took a step closer to the Brit, and Lena looked up, her sorrowful brown eyes meeting Amelie's pain-filled golden orbs.

"I was so sure you loved me the way I loved you. The kiss we shared, and the looks you kept giving me, and the way you stood up for me.. I felt loved, and wanted, and protected. And when we were alone, I couldn't keep my feelings bottled up inside any longer. I gave you my heart, _cherie_ , and you did _rien_ but tear it in half and step on it on your way out."

"I know," croaked Lena, tears still streaming down her face. Amelie realized that she had started crying too, but made no move to wipe away the tears. "I'm so sorry, love.. I'm just so fucking confused. Overwatch has barely reformed, and I still don't feel like I know you at all, and I'm terrified of what everyone will think if we're together, and.. I just don't _know!"_ Her voice rose at the end and she rubbed her eyes furiously before taking a step towards the assassin, leaving a mere few inches between them.

"I don't want excuses," said Amelie viciously. She couldn't stop the anger from slowly seeping into her voice. "I want.. you, _cherie._ You are everything I've ever wanted and needed. And I'm so fucking angry with you for the way you treated me last night, but I still want you. I _need_ you, Lena. I need somebody, because God knows how I'm supposed to deal with this alone. I told you last night if you can't be that person then I never want to see your face again, and.. despite how I feel about you.. that is still true." Amelie closed her eyes, ready to hear the door open and shut again.

Suddenly, she felt a warm hand give one of hers a gentle squeeze, and she opened her eyes to look down at Tracer. "Do you think I don't have feelings for you?" Lena whispered sotly, rubbing her thumb in slow circles over Amelie's cool purple skin. Amelie hesitated before nodding once, and Lena chuckled. "Love, I have _many_ feelings for you. Hell, I don't even know what all of them are yet, and I need time to figure that out. But I do care for you.. a lot." Lena brought her other hand up to carress Amelie's cheek, and she shuddered at the touch, closing her eyes. She felt her impossibly slow heart rate double at the intimate contact. _Oh, God, is she going to kiss me? Sacrebleu, I haven't even showered or brushed my teeth yet today!_ But Lena didn't. Her hand simply lingered on Amelie's face for a few seconds before she dropped it, but she didn't let go of the assassin's hand. "I would like to.. be friends." Lena stated, and Widowmaker cocked an eyebrow.

"Friends." Amelie didn't phrase it as a question, and Lena nodded before continuing.

"Yeah.. because, to be frank, love, I can't keep myself away from you. So, while I try to make sense of everything I'm feeling, I'd like to be friends. It would give us a chance to get to know each other a bit better. And, um.." Lena hesitated, her gaze moving to stare out the window at the pouring rain. "I did request that Jack put someone else in my place, but he refused, so we're kind of stuck with each other for a while.."

Amelie thought about it. Tracer was right about one thing; the pair really didn't know each other that well. She could count on her fingers how many facts she knew about the woman she was hopelessly in love with. She hoped that getting to know the woman would change the way she felt, but deep down, Amelie knew that the more she got to know Lena, the harder she would fall for her.

"Friends.. _Oui._ I would like that," Amelie whispered before bending down to press her lips to Lena's pale cheek. The petite woman instantly blushed from head to toe and dropped Widow's hand as she cleared her throat. "Okay. Good. Awesome. Um, there was another reason I came here, actually.. but the apology was the most important! I promise!" Amelie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, silently urging Lena to continue. "Well.. Angela would like to see you today, if possible.. she says these tests need to be started ASAP. And she has a suspicion that Talon is still keeping tabs on you somehow, and she wants to remove any trackers or other devices you may have implanted in your body."

Lena hesitated. She wanted to tell Amelie about the videos she had watched, but she was unsure of how the assassin would react. Amelie was in a vulnerable place right now, and dropping a bomb like that could set her off. Tracer decided she would wait until they were with Mercy to bring up the topic. After all, Angela was a doctor, and she'd know exactly how to calm Amelie down if the need arose.

"Well.. I need a shower first. I feel.. gross. But, yes. I think it is a good idea to go see the doctor today. There are some.. things I would like to speak to her about."

Lena exhaled in relief. "Great! Um, do you want me to wait here while you shower? Or is that weird? It might be weird.. It's not that I've never seen another woman naked, I've actually seen quite a few, even Angela, but I dunno if it'd be different with you because you love me and all that nice stuff and I think I'm rambling so I'm just gonna shut up now." Tracer took a deep breath and clamped her jaw shut as Amelie chuckled softly at her.

"You know, you really are adorable, Lena. And yes, you can wait here; I won't force you to see me naked. God knows how disappointing that would be for you." Amelie cast her eyes downwards; she really did have a negative opinion of herself. To her, the purple skin, flawless features and dazzling body were all reminders of Talon and the atrocities they had commited against her.

Tracer frowned. "Right, sorry. Um, I don't think I've told you this yet, but you are objectively the most beautiful creature in the world." She held up a finger as Amelie opened her mouth to retort. "No. Take the compliment. You are beautiful."

Amelie's heart melted at Lena's words. She knew that Lena only meant them in e friendly way, but the sentiment still set her insides on fire. " _Merci, doudou,"_ she said and laughed again at the bemused expression on Lena's face. "I'm sorry, _mon amour._ I'm just used to speaking French. _Doudou_ does not really have a translation; it means something sort of like a child's item that they can never let go of, whether it's a blanket or a stuffed animal or something like that. I promise after a few weeks of being around me, you will understand every French word I speak."

Lena blushed again as Amelie explained the name she'd just been given. _Aw, that's so sweet.. she can't let go of me?_ She was tempted to kiss the woman right then and there, throwing caution to the wind, but she forced herself to forget the idea. Taking is slow was the best option right now. "That's.. love, that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Um.. merci?" She cringed as she attempted to thank Amelie in her native language, bringing yet another throaty chuckle from the purple woman.

"Close enough," she said with a small smile. "Um, one last thing, _mon cœur_ _.._ I need a change of clothes." Amelie looked down at her hands, a tad embarassed. She wasn't really used to asking for things yet, and she didn't want to be a nuisance or a burden.

"There should be an Overwatch jumpsuit in the bathroom somewhere.. U-um, I don't know about underwear though.. not that you really need them.. those look.. perky.." _Goddammit, Lena, just shut your fucking mouth. Please!_

Amelie blinked before replying. "T-thank you.. but, I usually go without.. they don't work well with the skintight suit and all.." She felt blood rushing to her cheeks at Lena's compliment; if she were normal, she'd be blushing hard enough to rival a tomato's hue. "Well.. I am going to go shower. Um.. make yourself at home?" The words rushed out sounding like a question, and Widow cringed inwardly. _This isn't your home. You don't have a home._ Amelie turned around and rushed into the bathroom before she could embarass herself further.

Lena sat down on the bed, breathing in heavily. Amelie's scent filled her nostrils, a mixture of lavender and berries with a hint of latex, most likely from the suit she wore. _God, she's intoxicating.._ Lena thought distantly, closing her eyes. She felt.. not certain, but she knew the decision to at least try to be with Amelie was the right one. Lena just hoped things would work out in the end, one way or the other.

Widowmaker leaned on the counter, looking at herself in the mirror. Her heart was racing, or at least pumping at the rate a regular human's would. Sure enough, as she looked closely, she noticed the faintest tinge of red in her otherwise purple cheeks. " _Mon dieu,_ the things that woman does to me.." she uttered in a whisper before shaking her head and stripping down. She stepped into the shower and closed her eyes, letting the hot water distract her from all the thoughts bouncing around in her head.

 **Chapter 5! A whole bunch of angst, a tiny bit of romance, and some serious awkwardness between the girls.  
** **So, yeah, Amelie's been through a lot.. I really hope this chapter didn't trigger any of you guys and I am SO sorry if it did. That section was meant to show the pain and suffering she's already been through, and also to show how strong she really is.**

 **Here are the translations for this chapter:**

 **Entrez -** Enter/Come in  
 **Cherie -** Dearest  
 **Doudou -** No direct literal English translation; the closest thing is a child's item that they're inseparable from  
 **Mon amour -** My love  
 **Mon coeur -** My heart  
 **Mon dieu -** My God

 **Please review guys! Even if you don't like it, any feedback is better than no feedback. And lastly, a HUGE thank you to my editor but-can-you-fly. They're currently writing a story as well as editing mine (which is quite the feat IMO). It's called Heroes Never Die! and you should definitely check it out because the writing is truly amazing.**

 **Til next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

Amelie grunted as she raked a hairbrush through her wet tangles. She had been surprised when she found out that her washroom came stocked with everything she needed: a toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush, towels and shampoo, along with other basic necessities. The thought warmed her heart a bit, even though she figured every other cell was probably stocked in the same manner.

She closed her eyes as she brushed her hair methodically, humming an old French folk song under her breath. Amelie was glad Talon had allowed her to keep the French part of her; it was the only thing that kept her anchored and stopped her from floating down into a void of emptiness. She supposed it was that small part of herself that had allowed her to break free of Talon's chains. It was ironic that in the end, the miniscule fragment of humanity the very inhumane organization had shown her was the very reason she was now a free woman.

Opening her eyes, Amelie set the brush down and studied herself in the mirror. She had a black towel knotted tightly around her torso, barely covering her modest bosom and doing practically nothing to hide her long, toned legs. Slowly, she reached a hand out and traced her reflection. Amelie still wasn't sure if she liked what she saw.. in the past, she had been indifferent, simply taking in stride the fact that her eyes were golden and her skin was purple. Now, however, she felt, and something about her felt.. wrong. Widowmaker wasn't normal, not by a long shot, and she had a sinking feeling that she never would be.

Closing her eyes again, Amelie's mind flashed back to the first time she had laid eyes on herself after Talon's rigorous experiments.

 _Amelie groaned as she slowly regained consciousness. Bright light shone directly into her eyes, and she groaned softly, squeezing them shut. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she had trouble opening and closing them as she blinked, trying to get used to the light. After a few seconds, her eyes adjusted, and she swivelled her head, taking in her surroundings._

 _The first thing Amelie noticed was that she was bound to the bed; her wrists were strapped tightly to the railings of what she quickly realized was a hospital bed, and a thick leather strap kept her legs immobile. She frowned as she struggled feebly to move, but gave up after a minute._

 _The second thing she noticed was that it was freezing in her room. She shivered, her teeth chattering as she wished for a blanket or, better yet, a warm pair of arms to crawl into. That thought caused a dull throbbing in the back of her head, which confused her._

 _Various medical equipment sat strewn throughout the room; a monitor to her left, an IV to her right, and directly across from the foot of her bed was an instrument tray with numerous wicked-looking tools. The contents of the room confused her even further. Why was she here? How had she gotten here? And most importantly, where was Gerard?_

 _Someone cleared their throat to her far left, and Amelie craned her neck to get a glimpse of her companion. Sitting at a heavy black desk was a tall, thin woman with fiery red hair and glaring red eyes. She was wearing a long, black lab coat and a stethoscope around her neck. Amelie shivered again, but somehow she thought it had little to do with the temperature._

 _"You're awake," said the doctor in a somewhat masculine voice, standing up as she moved the stethoscope into her ears and onto Amelie's chest. Amelie thought she heard a hint of Irish when the doctor spoke. She knew it was routine for a doctor to do this, but something felt immensely wrong to Amelie. She knew that this was nowhere near a routine checkup._

 _"Where.. am I?" Amelie whispered, her voice cracking. Her throat was parched, as if she hadn't had anything to drink in days or even weeks. "I don't.. remember.." She frowned as she tried to recall how she had ended up here, but the ache started again in the back of her head._

 _"My dear, you are in the medical wing of Talon's headquarters," said the doctor emotionlessly, and Amelie's heart sank. If she was here, and Gerard or other Overwatch members hadn't rescued her yet, that could only mean one thing.._

 _"How.. did I get here?"she asked, her voice a bit stronger. The sinking feeling was beginning to take over her entire body; Amelie needed answers before a full-on panic attack hit her._

 _"Hmm.. that's actually rather difficult to answer," smirked the doctor. Amelie could tell the woman was getting a kick out of taunting her. "Well, let us start with introductions. My name is Moira O'Deorain, and I am the head of medical personnel for Talon. I'm also a rather accomplished geneticist, if I do say so myself." The woman paused, gesturing for Amelie to reply._

 _"I am..." she trailed off slowly. She knew who she was, and where she was from, but her name was slipping her mind for some reason. Amelie supposed it was whatever the IV drip was feeding her that was clouding her mind._

 _Moira chuckled darkly. "It's working, then," drawled the doctor. "Your name is Amelie Lacroix, but not for much longer, I'm afraid. You will come to forget that name."_

 _Amelie frowned yet again. "You can't possibly make me forget myself. And if you do, Gerard will rescue me, and he will make me remember. I am sure of it." She raised her chin delicately, defying Moira._

 _The doctor threw her head back and roared with laughter. "My dear, your husband is dead. He has been for almost a week now. You killed him. Don't you remember?" Amelie's eyes widened; her mind raced to deny what Moira had just revealed, but a nagging voice whispered that she was right. "Remember, Amelie. Ignore the headache for just a minute."_

 _And Amelie did. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to recall the events of the past week or so. The pain started to thump in her head again, but she pushed it away. Suddenly, a memory flooded her mind._

 _She remembered waking up in the dead of night and looking over at her sleeping husband. She remembered something taking over her body, leaving her mind fully aware. She remembered walking to the kitchen, grabbing a steak knife, and slitting the throat of the love of her life. And she remembered feeling utterly helpless as she watched herself murder the one person who truly loved her._

 _"No.. this is not real, sacrebleu! It can't be! You planted this in my mind!" Amelie screamed at Moira, her voice cracking again as tears cascaded down her cheeks. The memory played over and over again in her mind, each time making her less certain of the truth._

 _"I'm afraid it is very real, my dear. Would you like to see yourself?" Moira asked, changing the subject abruptly. Amelie frowned for the umpteenth time, but she nodded slowly, albeit reluctantly. Something in Moira's tone made everything seem even more utterly wrong._

 _Moira stood up, digging through her desk for something. After a few minutes, she pulled out a small mirror and untied one of Amelie's hands before handing it to her. "The alterations are.. drastic. They had to be. I truly am sorry," Moira bowed her head, true regret flashing across her face before being replaced by a stoic neutral expression._

 _Her hand shook as she took the mirror in her hand. Amelie took a deep breath before turning it around. Her breathing ceased._

 _The woman... no, the creature staring back at her was in no way, shape or form Amelie Lacroix. The woman's skin was a pale shade of purple, and golden orbs flashed from her eye sockets. However, the closer she looked, the more she recognized her own features.. the shape of her eyes, the curve of her lips.._

 _"What.. in God's name have you done to me?" Amelie whispered shakily. She let the mirror fall, uncaring as it shattered on the ground. This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare. She couldn't be purple, for Christ's sake!_

 _"Where to begin.." murmured Moira, seemingly deep in thought. Suddenly her head snapped up, her red eyes boring into Amelie's golden irises. "From the beginning, I suppose. Overwatch has always been a pain in Talon's arse," the doctor began, settling into her chair. "One agent in particular, your late husband Gerard, consistently thwarted us no matter what approach we took. So, the council members and I devised a plan to remove him from the game permanently. You were captured by Talon mercenaries and brought here. I performed extensive surgery on you, planting a device in your brain that when activated would force you to perform a series of actions. Unfortunately, I could not devise a way for the device to affect your consciousness; that is why you were aware the entire time."_

 _Amelie nodded slowly. Her throat felt thick, and it was hard for her to swallow. At this point, she had nothing to say, so Moira continued. "After I planted the device, we let Gerard rescue you and take you back to Gibraltar. You seemed a little beat up, but fine otherwise. I let a few weeks pass before activating the device. It forced you to murder Gerard and flee Overwatch, thus defecting to Talon. After you arrived, I performed a series of surgeries to alter your bodily functions. Your heart rate has been slowed to approximately ten beats per minute, drastically lowering your average body temperature and causing your skin to turn purple. Your eyes have been cybernetically enhanced to see further and better. Your digestive system has been optimized; you only require food once every week or so, with a maximum of eleven days between meals. Lastly, I enhanced your physique. You will find yourself stronger, faster, more flexible, and most importantly, more lethal than you ever were."_

 _Amelie simply nodded again. The truth had dawned on her, and she felt.. numb. "Why?" was her only reply._

 _Moira sighed heavily. "It was necessary. Your husband needed to be removed, and Talon required a master assassin. We killed two birds with one stone. You are to become the deadliest weapon in the world, Amelie. You will be a sight to behold."_

 _Amelie didn't even struggle against her bonds. Gerard was dead at her hand, and it was likely that every Overwatch agent knew exactly who had committed the crime. Nobody was coming to rescue her; she had no choice but to accept her fate._

 _"Tres bien," Amelie said dryly. "Am I right to assume that you will attempt to erase every trace of who I previously was?" Amelie would never let that happen; she would hold on to something, anything that would let her exact her revenge one day._

 _Moira nodded solemnly. "That is the plan, yes. Unfortunately, it won't be a pleasant endeavour, but you won't remember any of it afterwards."_

 _"One day, you will fear me, Moira O'Deorain. I will lay your head on my husband's grave." Amelie attempted to form more words, but before she could, her eyes fluttered shut and she fell into a deep dreamless sleep._

Widowmaker chuckled darkly as she drifted back to reality. She was still looking in the mirror, but for the past few minutes, she hadn't been seeing anything. "I was right, Moira," she whispered softly, turning away from the mirror. "You may have destroyed me, but I am becoming whole again. And I will destroy you. _Je le jure._ " And with that, she exited the bathroom.

/

Lena was laying on Amelie's bed, her eyes closed. The assassin's scent had drifted into her nostrils, a delicate combination of lavender and mint with the smallest hint of latex, likely from the skintight suit Widowmaker wore.

The smell was intoxicating; it put thoughts into Lena's head she'd been trying to ignore for the past two days. Thoughts of laying Amelie down, spreading her thighs and getting a small taste of the woman she was falling in love with. She pictured taking Amelie into the shower with her, and felt Amelie gasping and biting her shoulder as Lena pumped two fingers steadily in and out of her.

"What the fuck?!" She whispered hoarsely, sitting up straight. "I am not falling in love with Amelie!" _Or am I?_ her mind replied. Lena took a second to look at the facts.

Amelie Lacroix hadn't left her mind or her dreams for a second since they had met in London two nights ago. Without even thinking about it, she had kissed Amelie, and not just a peck.. she had kissed Widow the way lovers would kiss behind closed doors. And now, she was laying in the woman's bed, thinking dirty thoughts about her while she was literally feet away.

"Christ," muttered Lena, rubbing at her eyes. _How can you be in love with someone you don't even know? Maybe it's just a crush. Maybe it'll go away. Hopefully. Because I'm screwed if it doesn't. God, help me._ Lena repeated these thoughts over and over in her mind, even muttering them under her breath as she unsuccessfully attempted to convince herself that she was full of shit.

Lena bounced out of Amelie's bed as she heard the bathroom door unlock. She stood awkwardly, her hands clasped behind her back as she waited for Widow to appear. When the assassin opened the door, steam rolling out in waves, Tracer forgot to breathe for a while.

Amelie was wearing nothing but a towel. It covered her cleavage and midriff, but it covered nothing below her upper thigh. Amelie may as well have come out completely naked; Lena's mind was rapidly connecting the dots and removing that towel.

"Um.. _bonjour, cherie_ ," said Amelie softly, a faint pink tinge appearing in her cheeks. "Thank you for waiting, Lena. You are too kind."

Lena picked her jaw up off the ground and blinked a couple times. "Do you have any idea how incredibly fuckable you look right now, love?" She blurted out before she could stop herself _. That was really fucking smooth, Lena. You know, for somebody who claims to not be attracted to the woman in front of you, you say the oddest things. And I think the little puddle between your thighs tells us the truth_. "Oh, God, Amelie, I didn't mean that.. well, I did, but.. fuck. You're just.. incredibly attractive, love, and that towel doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination.."

Amelie blinked twice before looking down at herself and gasping. _"Sacrebleu! Bordel de merde! Cherie_ , I didn't even realize. I am so sorry. Um.." she hesitated before dashing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Lena laughed at the awkwardness of the situation. She slowly walked to the bathroom door, turning around and leaning her back against it. "Amelie, love.. You don't have to hide yourself around me. I know you know I'm attracted to you, but I won't jump your bones. I promise. Please, come out, love. I'm truly sorry."

Tracer heard Amelie's sigh through the door. " _Mon amour_ , that was probably the most embarrassing thing I have _ever_ done. And the fact that it's you, of all people.. I don't know if I can ever look you in the eye again. And I'm not scared of you.. jumping my bones.. You've made it very clear how you feel about me, Lena. I didn't expect you to do anything rash. I just.." her voice trailed off and Lena took a step forward. Amelie opened the door, emerging fully dressed in a black Overwatch jumper.

"I had a.. moment.. when I was brushing my hair. A flashback, if you will." Amelie clamped her jaw shut, looking intently at her feet.

"You can talk to me, love.. I'm here to listen," Lena replied, squeezing Widowmaker's hand gently. "That's what friends do. But I'm not forcing you.. just know you have someone on your side, love."

Widow exhaled slowly. "I was.. remembering the first time I woke up after Talon had brought me back to their headquarters. Moira was in the room with me, and she made me look at myself, and.. I was purple, with golden eyes.. I wasn't me anymore. She told me that I would forget who I once was. That I would be in their grasp until the day I die." Amelie raised her gaze, meeting Lena's eyes. "But you _, mon ange_.. my angel.. you saved me. And now I have the chance to prove them wrong, all thanks to you. Now, I can be me again. And, um, being caught up in that memory sort of made me forget I was practically naked. _Pardon, cherie_."

Lena beamed up at Amelie. "You are the strongest person I know, Amelie. I'm glad that I can bring out these parts of you. I will always be here, ready to listen and help in any way I can. You're stuck with me, love. Sorry in advance. And for the record, I wasn't lying when I said you were fuckable, or when I let slip that I'm attracted to you.. but you're right. I won't make any moves. Scout's honor."

In response, Widowmaker pulled Lena into her arms, hugging her tightly. "I will never be able to repay you, Lena. You are the only light in my darkened world. You make me feel alive, something I have no recollection of ever feeling. You are priceless." The hug lasted longer than it should have, Amelie resting her chin on Tracer's head and Lena listening to Widow's slow, steady heartbeat. Eventually, Lena pulled away regretfully.

"Well, I suppose we should head to the medical wing.. Angela is expecting us. Shall we?" She gestured to the door, offering her other hand out to Amelie.

Amelie didn't hesitate as she took Lena's warm, soft hand in her cold one. A jolt ran through her body at the contact. _Mon dieu, I'm falling for her more and more every second,_ she thought. " _Oui, mon amour_. We shall."

 **So, that's chapter 6. A bit of Amelie's backstory and more than a bit of Lena trying to fight what we all know she's feeling. I know this is a bit sappy and stuff, but the next couple chapters will be full of action and other less lovey-dovey things. Pinky promise.**

 **From the next chapter onwards, I will only be adding translations of new French words.**

 **Tres bien -** very well  
 **Je le jure -** I swear  
 **Sacrebleu -** no direct translation; a cry of surprise  
 **Bordel de merde -** literally: whorehouse of shit; more commonly used as "holy fucking shit"  
 **Mon amour -** my love  
 **Pardon - sorry  
** **Mon ange -** my angel

 **Please leave a review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


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